Home
by WednesdayMorn
Summary: *CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN; SEQUEL IS UP* Godric was missing, and Eira didn't know what to do. Those closest to her were keeping secrets; they weren't letting her find Godric. Therefore, she goes to someone who can help, someone she hasn't seen in over 1,000 years. Can Eira find Godric before something bad happens? And what's the deal with Eric Northman? [Godric/OFC]
1. Fucking Fridays

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing other than my original characters and anything you might not recognize.  
True Blood and everything that pertains to it belongs to Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris.

_No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

For a select number of reasons, Eira was not partial to Friday nights. Everyone liked to go out on Fridays, and this reason was the highest on Eira's list of why she despised gracing the world with her presence at the end of the week. There was just something about a crowded street, or an overflowing shop, that set her teeth on edge—and traffic was another thing entirely.

She usually spent the start of her weekends tucked away inside her home, reading her books, watching movies on the large flat screen television in her living room, pouring over her sketchbooks and canvases, or lounging out on the roof and looking up at the stars—she did anything that didn't involve interacting with _other_ people.

In essence, Eira did _not_ like going out—not on Mondays or Wednesdays, or any other day of the week… especially on Fridays. She was not a people-person, and the amount of friends she had—close or otherwise—she could count on one hand.

… _However_, given _what_ and _who_ she was, her aversion of social interactions was understandable. Her surname was a thing to behold, and what anyone with half a brain, feared.

On this particular Friday night however, instead of being curled up on her window seat and reading the newest addition to her private library, Eira found herself sitting in her black BMW, staring through the windshield at the flashy red lights that belonged to one, _Fangtasia: Bar and Nightclub_. Going to a vampire-friendly nightclub was something that she had never been interested in, but she could not deny that she was curious, and wondered what it would be like to step through the currently opened, black-painted doors…

A stitch of nervousness accompanied Eira's curiosity. An uncomfortable feeling settled deep within her chest and she nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip worriedly. If she should leave the safety of her car, what exactly would await her once she walked past the nightclub's doors? Would the night unfold slowly, each minute taking an eternity to pass—or would there be an explosion of events that would exceed dizzyingly fast, making her head spin.

_More importantly_, would things go according to plan, or would it all blow up in her face the second she crossed the nightclub's threshold?

There was still time for Eira to turn and run like a wounded animal with its tail tucked between its hinged legs. No one had noticed the shiny black BMW parked amongst the old Chevys and Toyotas, sticking out like a glittering jewel amongst pieces of old plastic. She could leave now and pretend she had not even been before the secluded nightclub with intensions of entering it—but Eira could not be scared off. There were things that she needed to do, things that alone she would not be able to accomplish, and for that reason alone, she did not start up her car and drive down the interstate like a bat out of hell.

Nevertheless, her pride was preventing her from exiting her car, making her hesitant to take on the cool night air. Relying on others was something she hated, she did not like being dependant of another being, but here she was, and she hated feeling weak and broken… but it was a fact that couldn't be denied. She **was** weak, broken, kept together by seams that were about ready to burst.

Eira was afraid.

"I'm here," spoke Eira into her cell phone, her voice merely above a breathy whisper, accented with a soft British twang.

The person on the other end of her cell phone heard her perfectly though, as if she were talking at a normal volume level.

"I trust you did not have any complications," said the voice of a woman, her words enunciated with a curious, Latin accent.

"I followed the directions you left for me," said Eira, keeping her voice soft, "and I have to say, that I regret making the trek here by land rather than by plane. I've already wasted too much time."

"You were upset and you needed time to think," said the woman decisively. "Your little road trip provided you with time to think things through."

"Right," sighed Eira, uninterested.

"How long are you planning on staying there?"

"I'll stay in Louisiana for a night—two at the most if the need for it arrives," answered Eira, her eyes shifting from the gaudy sign beside the entrance doors of the nightclub, to her left hand that held onto the steering wheel idly. A simple, white gold band rested on her ring finger, the diamonds on it twinkling in the lowlight. The sight of it made her say, "If anything, expect me back by Monday. I do not wish to stay here any longer than I must."

"Do what you deem necessary," said the woman stridently, her voice softening as she added, "and be safe, Eira. We cannot lose you either."

"Can you just tell me what—"

The woman had already hung up before Eira could finish her sentence.

"Of course," she said with a frustrated sigh, slipping her phone into the pocket of her jean shorts, "just leave Eira in the dark—she mustn't know what's going on—_whatever_."

She needed to get out of the car now, time was ticking away, but the ring on her left hand made her stop and think for a moment. It was a plain thing compared to the assortment of jewels she had in her possession, but it was elegant in its simplicity, and its significance was what made it valuable. The perfectly cut center stone was large compared to the smaller stones that encircled it, and its form reminded Eira of a snowflake—which was appropriate, for her name meant _snow_ in Welsh, and the ring had been given to her on Christmas.

The ring was a promise.

The ring was a reminder.

The ring was causing her _so much_ heartache…

Months ago, Eira was a ball of blissful delight and joy—fantasies of white lace and veils filled her sketchbooks, dreams came to life underneath her pencil of what the future was going to present her with… and now it didn't matter. Everything was gone, just like _him_…

Signing unhappily, Eira tore her eyes away from her ring, and looked up at the rearview mirror. Her bright blue eyes were a light shade of gray this evening, and there was a look of pure anguish within her stormy irises. No smile, no matter how well she'd manage to prefect it, would be able to mask how miserable she looked.

Avoiding the thought of the repercussion of her actions, Eira quickly exited her car and began walking across the parking lot, the loose gravel crunching underneath the soles of her brown, lace-up boots. She ran a hand through her hair; her light blonde tresses were thick, its ends reaching her hips and curling in free spirals.

As she grew nearer to the entrance doors and the queue of waiting patrons, Eira realized that with her boots, shorts, and flowery white blouse, she stood out like a sore thumb amongst the black-leather clad clientele. That and the fact that she looked far too young to be walking the streets without a guardian this late at night would prove to be a problem—she was sure of it.

Letting her facial features relax down to an uninterested look, Eira walked past the queue confidently, avoiding looking anyone in the eye as she made her way to the front. At the entrance of the nightclub stood a striking female vampire, carding customers with a rather bored expression on her pale face. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and her body was covered in a short leather dress that left very little to the imagination.

"Is Eric Northman in tonight?" asked Eira with an air of indifference, her head tilted upwards to take in the sight of the blonde vampire before her. "I need to speak with him—it concerns an urgent matter that will interest him greatly."

The blonde vampire blinked, stared down at Eira for just a moment, and then rolled her eyes. In a voice that oozed fake sincerity, she said, "Yes, Eric is in tonight, but you'll just have to wait your turn like everyone else."

"You don't understand," said Eira with a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, will you just let me through for just a moment—or you could call him out here? I really need to talk to—"

A hand materialized on her shoulder, and Eira felt herself being yanked backwards and turned around roughly. Her eyes met with a pair of irritated brown eyes that belonged to someone unknown, someone who was pissed off for having his entrance into the nightclub delayed—someone oh so very _human_.

"You can't just walk to the front like you own the place," the man hissed, his eyes narrowed. "Get in the back, _cunt_."

Eira stood still, unfazed. She merely quirked up an eyebrow in question, her features melting into those of surprise and disbelief as this human thought he had the right to tell her what to do.

"Right," she said delicately after a moment, taking in an unneeded breath of air to help her stay calm. Lashing out at this _stupid_ man would not prove helpful in getting what she wanted. With a jerk of her shoulder, and a backwards step, Eira was free of the man's grasp, and she said rather stiffly, "A verbal warning would have sufficed—you did not need to _touch_ me."

The man snorted, looking Eira up and down, his narrowed eyes now leering. He took a step towards her, puffing out his chest, trying to be intimidating—but he was only human. Eira had virtually nothing to worry about, and so she remained calm, looking up at the man with a rather bored look in her eyes.

"What's a pretty little girl like you doing here anyway," the man inquired with a malicious smirk. "You're probably not even old enough to drink. Hell—you look like you belong in middle school—_no no_—elementary school! That's it! Man, the things I'd _love_ to do to—"

Before anyone could even comprehend what was happening—let alone _blink_, Eira had the man pressed up against the side of the building, her hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard enough to hold him in place and show him that it was **she** who controlled the situation, not him. She had moved so quickly that all anyone saw was a blur of blonde hair, and immediately the people who'd been watching Eira and the man's interaction took a startled step back, the entertained smiles wiped off their faces just as fast as Eira's movements.

"I may look like a mere child, _human_," hissed Eira with narrowed eyes, leaning up into the man's face threateningly, "but I am over _1,000 _years old. I am _old_ enough to manage a _drink_, don't you think?"

The man tried to put on a brave face, daring to push against Eira's hold—this pitiful little girl had bested him once, but he would not allow it another time, however one squeeze from Eira's hand had him struggling for air, his face rapidly turning pink.

"Silly _human_," said Eira with a sneer, tilting her head back and allowing two large fangs to extend from her gums with a sharp click, "I did not come here spoiling for a fight—if I let you go will you _stand down_? I _really_ do not want blood on my boots."

The man's eyes widened, surprise clearly etched onto his features. He was dealing with a _vampire_, a vampire hidden within the visage of a small, doe eyed girl. A rush of thrill and lust swelled in his chest—he loved little girls… and the fact that this little girl was a vampire made things so much sweeter.

Eira immediately sensed the twisted turn in the man's countenance. Gone was the stab of fear and surprise she had sensed moments earlier as she was crushing his windpipe. She was well aware how "fangbangers" were the new _thing_ now. She couldn't even imagine why a human would want their necks torn at just for the euphoric feeling a vampire's bite would cause, but sex was nearly always involved, and she supposed that there was a sense of thrill mixed with the danger of the unknown, that the humans craved. Tha man in her hand was clearly a fangbanger—she would have to set him straight.

"I can snap your neck in a heartbeat and easily get away with it, you know," said Eira softly, her voice taking on a sultry tone as she stared into the man's eyes, allowing her influence to pour into his mind and ensnare his senses, "however, I am feeling generous tonight. When I release you, you will turn away and walk back home. You will sleep the night away and when you wake up tomorrow, you will do something meaningful with your life. Oh, and before I forget, you will **stop** preying on children—because oh yes, I can _smell_ them on you… Forget my face, my voice, and _this place_."

The man, now in a trancelike state, nodded numbly, and Eira retracted her hand, taking a step back and allowing the man to stumble his way past her. She watched him with a mixture of disinterest and disgust as he idly made his way past the queue of startled patrons, and off into the night in whatever direction his home lay.

"Now," said Eira as if she hadn't just glamoured someone, retracting her fangs with a sharp click and turning to face a very stunned, blonde vampire, "you're young I can tell—_so_—as your _elder_, you **will** stand down. I will speak with Eric Northman, and neither you nor anyone else will stop me, is that clear?"

The blonde vampire simply took a step back and lowered her head submissively, knowing that when in the presence of another vampire, age was a rank, and this small thing clearly outranked her by hundreds and hundreds of years. However, she would not allow this little vampire to have the last word, not on her turf.

"Just who the _fuck_ do you think you are?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits, and hands balled up at her sides.

"Eira," said Eira simply, shrugging her shoulder as she walked past the blonde vampire and into Fangtasia, but not before throwing over her shoulder, "Eira _Northman_..."


	2. A Reunion of Vikings

The atmosphere within Fangtasia was dark and sultry, looking like something out of a modernized horror movie. The music was loudly pulsing through the speakers, loud enough that you had to give a quick shout if you wanted to be heard. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol were swirling in the air thickly—becoming one, and the scent of sweat in the air was tangy.

There was even a hint of blood.

The lights were on, though they were set to their lowest brightness, adding to the sinister mood set within the nightclub. The color red coated the walls, and the floor was made of darkly tinted, smooth concrete. All the furniture in the room was made of black and red leather, placed strategically around an open area where thick crowds of people were dancing along with the beat of the currently song playing.

Various frames of random, contemporary artwork hung on the walls precariously, along with a few elegant golden chandeliers swaying down from the ceiling. The occasional candleholder protruded from random spots on the wall, giving the overall decoration a faux Victorian sense.

However, Eira was not taking in her surroundings as much as any new patron would. Yes, it had been interesting at first; she had never been in such an environment where humans and vampires coexisted freely and without the usual prejudice, but it all got boring oh so very quickly. She was more familiarizing herself with the floor plan now, should anything happen and she need a quick escape.

Letting her eyes roam about the room, they quickly caught sight of something very peculiar, yet not at all surprising once she gave it a second to sink in. There was a throne at the back of the room on top of a stage, positioned just rightfully so, so that it overlooked all of Fangtasia. However, it was not so much the throne that caught Eira's eye. A large, broad shouldered, blond male currently occupied it. He had piercing blue eyes and sharp facial features, his hair reaching his shoulders and neatly parted to the side. He wore all black, though was more tasteful in his outfit unlike the people who currently littered the dance floor. He had on dark washed jeans, a black wife beater, and a black leather jacket over that, which was left unzipped. Simple, elegant, classy—yes, he was definitely better dressed than the leather clad customers that had midriff showing, mixed fishnet stockings with boots, and looked downright ghastly.

"Oh, Eric," Eira found herself saying softly, looking up at Fangtasia's owner. He had yet to spot her, his eyes scanning the crowd with disinterest, but that was just fine for Eira. It made walking up to him all the more… _exciting_?

Eira did not know what exactly she was feeling in that moment. She had not see him in a millennia and then some, but now here he was, just mere feet away from her. She was almost scared to approach him, and yet she wanted to jump onto his large frame, to have her arms wrapped around him and smother him in kisses, showing him just how much she had missed him.

Taking an unneeded breath and squaring her shoulders, Eira began walking towards Eric, dodging the many sweaty bodies of dancers that gathered on the dance floor. It was Friday—everyone was out—and Eira hated it. She would have rather arrived on a weekday, when she was sure the population inside Fangtasia would be less than what it currently was, but she was here now, and she was on a mission.

She was out of the crowd and reached the edge of the stage in seconds. A couple of steps were right in front of the throne, leading up onto the stage, and Eira would have quickly climbed them, but her path appeared to be blocked. A group of scantily clad woman gathered at the steps, talking excitedly amongst one another while stealing glances at the blond Viking who did not even acknowledge them. Eric looked bored—a look that Eira knew well. It took a lot to impress Eric Northman.

"Excuse me," said Eira, raising her voice to be heard over the music. The woman she was speaking to did not hear her, so Eira tapped her on the shoulder, getting her attention quickly. "Can you and your friends step aside? I need to speak with the man sitting there on the throne."

"You and everyone else," exclaimed the woman rather rudely. "Wait your turn!"

"What is it with queues today," hissed Eira underneath her breath, rather annoyed that yet again, another _human_ was telling her to wait. Taking in an unneeded breath, she tried again, this time a bit more stiffly—"_Move_... please."

The woman had not heard Eira's softly spoken request underneath all the noise of people and music, but the look on Eira's face was enough to convey her message. It made the woman smirk, and she quirked an eyebrow, beckoning her friends to surround her. Eira knew what the woman was doing, she was trying to be intimidating—there _was_ safety in numbers, but the woman and her friends were merely humans, and therefore they were not a threat.

Eira decided to humor them.

"Look little girl—" _to hell with it_.

Eira's resolve was broken.

She did not like being belittled when it came to her looks. She understood that she was "living" in the body of a fourteen or fifteen year old girl—she wasn't sure what her age was, since she had never celebrated a birthday in her human life. It had been _so long_ ago and such things weren't practiced in that day and age, but she was far older and far wiser than a teenager was—certainly more so than the smirking trollop standing before her.

Eira hated how the humans never took her seriously because of her young looks. She always needed to drop fang to get the respect she deserved.

With a sharp click and a vicious hiss, Eira had her fangs out in the blink of an eye, eyes narrowed into slits as she stared up at the woman and her group of friends.

"Back off before I rip your heart out," she spat.

"… O-okay…"

Eira was astounded by how fast the woman's demeanor changed, but this nightclub—despite what the signs and posters said—catered mainly to vampires, and here humans were the lesser species, in spite of the neutral environment. The woman clearly understood this unspoken decree.

"Thank you," said Eira calmly, retracting her fangs. "Now move."

The woman nodded, not saying a word as she scurried off, her group of friends following loyally behind her. Now Eira was alone (figuratively), her eyes glued to the tall Viking who had now just noticed her. His blue eyes roamed her body, taking in her appearance. There was a dark look in his eyes as if he were angry that Eira had just scared off his little fan club, but as he looked into her eyes, the dark look quickly left him as familiarity dawned on him. He was out of his throne and standing in front of Eira in seconds, his right arm raised and his hand outstretched to caress her cheek, but he held back, as if one touch from him would cause Eira to vanish in a puff of smoke.

It was then that he spoke. Just one word, but it was enough to cause Eira's chest to flutter with nonexistent butterflies.

"Eir…"

Disbelievingly, and almost hesitantly, Eric placed his hand on Eira's cheek, willing himself to believe that she was there, standing before him, and not a figment of his imagination. His face was devoid of facial expressions, but it was all in his eyes. He was confused, he was angry, he was astounded, he was relieved, and he was _hurt_.

"Eric," whispered Eira, not being able to take it anymore. She shot forwards, wrapping her arms tightly around Eric's waist, nearly causing him to stumble backwards, taken off guard.

There were many intakes of breath (all in shock), and the chatter in the room decreased significantly, but Eira did not care that she and Eric were being stared at. She could feel multiple eyes on her back, but she had Eric held tightly within her grasp, and that was all that mattered to her.

"Pam," choked out Eric, dazed, and in an instant, the blonde vampire from the entrance was standing before him, looking up at Eric with a quizzical expression on her face.

"What the _fuck_, Eric?" the blonde spat, one perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked up in question; hand on hip in a haughty pose.

Eira took that as her cue to step away from Eric and start explaining her reasons for being at Fangtasia, but she was pleasantly surprised when she felt Eric's arms wrap around her small form as she had been pulling away, pressing her up against his front and preventing her from leaving his side. It was as if he was scared of letting her go, and that only made the butterflies in Eira's chest flutter harder.

"I'll be in my office for the remainder of the night," said Eric, detached. "Look after the floor—I do not wish to be disturbed."

However, Pam was not having any of it—this little blonde vampire claimed that she was a Northman, and so Pam demanded vehemently, "Who _is_ she? She says that—"

"She's my sister," Eric said simply, blinking once.

Pam was stunned.

"Your sister," she repeated carefully, crossing her arms across her chest. "You told me that everyone in your family had died."

"It appears that I was wrong."—with that said, Eric disappeared with Eira, and Pam was left looking to the side, where the door that led into the staff rooms was now swinging slowly as if pushed by an invisible force.

"Well—_fuck_—me."

Her maker was just full of surprises, and Pam did not like that.


	3. Getting Somewhere

The air in Eric's office was calm, but Eira knew better. She knew that this was only the beginning—that Eric would eventually explode and demand answers, but for now, she would enjoy the silence for however long it lasted. She was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sitting on the only sofa in the office, Eira looked around the room nervously. She could feel Eric's intense gaze on her body, and it made her twitchy. She didn't know how she was going to tell him about why she was there, in Shreveport, Louisiana…

The fact that the room was also windowless, and it's only door was currently locked, was another worrying thing for Eira. She could not escape.

Eira was not sure how to present the situation to Eric without alarming him, but she knew a reaction from him, violent or otherwise, would be inevitable. The bond between maker and progeny… it is strong, and Eira knew this first hand. Eric would be in pain, and rage would consume him…

Eira could only hope for the best, but she would allow herself a few more moments of peace, because she knew that her words were not going to be taken lightly.

"Pam was her name?" asked Eira when she sensed Eric was about to speak. "She's your progeny… I could feel it. She's very pretty, very young, a bit rude thou—"

"_Eir,_" snapped Eric harshly, knowing exactly what his sister was trying to do. If there was one thing that he remembered well about Eira, it was that she talked in circles when she did not want to make her point clear.

Eira sucked in an unneeded breath of air and balled her hands up into tight fists on the tops of her knees. She knew it was coming. She knew Eric would begin asking questions—

_Who turned you?_

_Where have you been?_

_How did this happen?_

_Why did you hide?_

Eira was not going to answer any questions—at least that was what she told herself, but at the same time, she wanted to come clean. She wanted her brother to know everything that had happened to her throughout the years. She wanted to get rid of the weight on her shoulders from carrying all these secrets… but she was not here for that. There was a time and place for everything, and right now was not the time to tell her brother her life's story.

"How…," Eric softly demanded, running a hand through his blond hair, unintentionally slicking it back, "how is it possible? I thought you were—I thought that they…"

He took in a deep breath to calm himself. The last he had seen of his sister… it was an image burned into his memory. Her scared face, her wide eyes, her screams, and all the blood…

Eira would tell Eric about how she came to be a vampire, about why she had stayed away for so long, but not tonight. She was not sure she would be able to spit out the words anyways; she was already nervous about another matter, and adding her past into the mix would only end up in disaster.

She hated thinking about the day she was turned.

_I'm a walking contradiction_, thought Eira. However, it was true. She was torn between telling Eric everything, and telling him nothing.

"Eir," said Eric, letting out a frustrated sigh, which sounded more like a growl, "**tell me**."

"Eric, _vänligen_ (please)," pleaded Eira in their native tongue. "I am not here for that. We do not have time—"

"Who is '**we**'?" hissed Eric, becoming enraged and standing from his chair. "I know that _I _have all the time in the world for this! I want an explanation, Eir! How is it that you are here, looking just like I remember you? Why did you take this long to contact me when it is obvious that you have been a vampire for _longer_ than I have?"

"Eric," said Eira softly, rising from her seat on the sofa, "I will explain everything to you in due time, but right now there are more important things at stake than my past."

"**LIKE WHAT**!" screamed Eric, finally losing what little self-control he had left. "Tell me Eir, what is more important than—"

"Your maker, _Godric_," blurted out Eira, feeling her chest tightening painfully. She had not said his name in many days, and now she was reminded of why. She felt empty, as if a part of her was missing, and the ring on her left hand felt suddenly very heavy, reminding her of what had been taken away from her.

"What…" A look of utter confusion took hold of Eric's face. He sat back down in his seat, his eyebrows meeting at the middle, a pensive expression on his face. Eira could see a look of concern cloud his cerulean orbs, but also a look of mistrust as he glared at her.

One did not mess with another's maker, no matter if the two progenies were kin.

"Eric, Godric… he, he is _my_ maker as well," said Eira, looking at her brother with wide, scared blue eyes.

Eric was silent for a moment, his thoughts going a mile a minute. This didn't make any sense—Eira couldn't possibly be Godric's progeny. He and Godric… they were together for most of their existance—he would have caught wind of Eira! She couldn't have been **_that_** careful in keeping herself concealed for over 1,000 years!

"That's not possible," hissed Eric quietly, glaring at his sister, "I would have known—"

"Not if I had left when he turned you," blurted out Eira.

"Eir—"

"Not now," she cut him off. "Like I said, there are more important things at stake, and I will tell you all you need to know. However, right now, you need to help me. I need... I—I—_Oh by the gods_..."

Eric flashed before Eira in seconds, cupping her cheeks with his hands and running his thumbs gently across the skin under her eyes.

Tears had begun to form in Eira's eyes, rimming them red, and she sighed, hating herself for looking so weak and pathetic in front of her older brother. However, she could not help it. Godric had been taken away from her, and it felt like a piece of her had gone off with him. It was not fair! She had spent nearly half of her existence away from him, and now when she had just barely gotten him back, he was gone…

"What has gotten you so… _scared_," said Eric after a moment, his head tilted to the side and staring down at Eira with a curious look in his eyes. "Tell me, Eir."

"No one calls me that… except for Godric," said Eira sadly, her voice wavering. "Everyone refers to me as Eira, and—"

"_Eir_," Eric said sternly, "enough mindless chatter. Tell me."

"You haven't changed," said Eira with a bittersweet smile.

"No, not much," shrugged Eric. "Now tell me, what has Godric got to do with all of this?"

Eira felt her stomach drop.

"He… he's gone," she whispered, breaking down and wrapping her arms around Eric. "Missing, disappeared, kidnapped—someone _took_ him!"

"What," hissed Eric, his arms snaking around Eira protectively. "What do you mean?"

"You ask far too many questions," sobbed Eira against his chest, not caring that she was staining the top of her blouse, and Eric's shirt, with bloody tears. Their clothing were simple things that could be replaced, but Godric…

Eric reluctantly pulled away, his arms lingering on Eira's shoulders as he looked down at her. His face was devoid of emotion, completely blank, but his eyes betrayed him. They had darkened, taking on an evil glare, but it was not directed at Eira, more so the thought that someone had kidnapped their maker.

"I'm going to need you to tell me all that you know," he said lowly, squeezing her shoulders.

More tears began to fall from Eira's eyes. She was growing hysterical now, her shoulders shaking with sobs and her hands trembling. She had kept a straight, calm face since the beginning of this whole situation, and now that the tears had started, they didn't seem to stop.

Eric sensed Eira's pain, her heartbreak, her rage, and he brought her close to his chest once more, resting his chin on the top of her head, not at all bothered by the blood running down her cheeks. He wished to comfort her, to make the pain go away, but he did not know how. He had never been good with crying women.

"Eir," hushed Eric, his voice soft and soothing, "I need you to tell me in order for us to get him back."

"But that's just—the—thing!" cried Eira, punctuating her last three words with a pounding fist to Eric's chest. "They won't tell me anything!"

"What do you mean?"

"His underlings, Isabel and Stan, they know more than their letting on," sniffled Eira, leaning away from Eric to look up at him. "They know who took him, I'm sure of it, but they refuse to tell me. They say that they are not 100% sure, but that they have their suspicions. I have asked them repeatedly for information, but they just ignore me or beat around the bush! Whenever I try to do my own research, they stop me! I can't do anything! They have me guarded, watched—it's a miracle they didn't follow me down here!"

"Why do they refuse to tell you?" growled Eric, getting angry with Godric's underlings. He was going to give them a piece of his mind in the near future for preventing his sister from searching for their maker. How dare they meddle in something that had nothing to do with them! Godric was his and Eira's maker, not theirs!

"I think, because…" Eira sighed, calming down, "I'll go on a killing spree once I get names, and they know that."

Despite the situation, Eric chuckled. His sister was loyal, and she could hold a grudge like no other. She was rancorous and would stop at nothing to get her way. She would have made a fine shield maiden if **_that night_** hadn't of taken her away from the living…

"By the way," said Eric suddenly, making Eira look up at him with questioning eyes, "what's with the British accent?"

"What's with the American accent?" asked Eira in return, offering him a small smirk.

"Touché, _älskling_ (sweetheart)," Eric smirked.

* * *

**AN:** All translations come from _Google Translate_... so bear with me.


	4. Nightmares

Upon leaving Fangtasia, Eric had offered to drive Eira's BMW—Eira had been so distraught that she let him, using the time it took to get to his home to calm her nerves. He had his cell phone glued to his ear the entire drive, calling all his contacts in Dallas, Texas, trying to find any piece of information on Godric's whereabouts—they were all dead ends. All anyone told him were things Eira had already told him, such as the last place Godric had been seen at, the last things he had done, and his exact time of disappearance. It was nothing substantial, so Eric had gone off on a limb and called Isabel and Stan, and they gave him _even less_ information. Eric had been so enraged with all the secrecy surrounding his maker's disappearance that he'd threatened to deliver the True Death to Isabel and Stan should they not do something about the situation... and then subsequently crushed his cell phone and threw it out the window, ending their conversation.

To say that Eric had matured with the passing of years was a lie. He was still the barbaric man that Eira had grown up with in her human life, but he had learned to mask it well when it was convenient for him. It made her smile.

At least _some things_ hadn't changed…

Shortly after casting aside his cell phone, they arrived at their destination, after passing tall, wrought iron gates.

Eric's home was of a moderate size, nothing fancy or overtly done—this surprised Eira. He had a throne in Fangtasia, and so she assumed that when Eric took her to his home she would be greeted with the sights of a castle or something similar, but no. He owned a cream-colored house of three stories, which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, but was actually only a thirty-minute drive from his nightclub, on an unmarked road for security and privacy.

However, upon entering the house, Eira noticed that despite its insipid outer appearance, the inside was a contradiction and worthy of Eric's extravagant tastes. The windows had electric shades that would descend once sunrise would grow near, and rise when sundown hit. The walls were painted light colors, covered with tasteful works of art or pricey artifacts that Eira was sure her brother had collected throughout the ages. Every piece of furniture looked to be out of the Victorian era; some matched, while others were just random pieces that went well together. The floors would change between wood, marble, plush carpets, and large fur throws that were no doubt made of real fur.

What surprised Eira the most about Eric's home was that the house did not have a kitchen, making it obvious that Eric had personally constructed his home rather than buying it already made. He did have a microwave and a small refrigerator though, which Eira suspected contained a few bottles of the famous synthetic blood, _TruBlood_, but knowing Eric, she was sure that the blood within the little ice box belonged to a human donor.

"You really don't have to do this," Eira told Eric as he led her down a set of stairs. "Isabel has booked me a hotel room. It's vampire friendly!"

Eric simply ignored her.

"Eric," Eira sighed, "really. I don't mean to impose."

"Nonsense," mumbled Eric. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Eira sighed. She had a feeling this would happen. Eric had been a very overprotective older brother in their human life, and it seemed that with her return, his annoying hovering was going to return as well.

"Are we in the basement?" asked Eira as she looked around absentmindedly. This part of the house was not as overtly decorated as the rest, and at the top of the stairs, was a thick steel door with a very intricate key code that included thumbprint identification that they had had to get past to descend into the lower levels of the house.

Eira and Godric had something similar in their home—vampires could not enter a human's house if they did not have an invitation, but that did not mean that a human couldn't break into their home during the daytime, which was cause for extra precautions concerning their places of rest.

"Yes," Eric informed Eira after a moment. "The shutters are electric, but you can never be too careful, therefore I've converted the basement into bedrooms. The guestrooms are on the main level of the house, though. I don't really care for what happens to _other people_ who decide to spend the day."

"Of course," said Eira with a tiny smile.

She remained silent after that. She had nothing else to say, anyways.

"This will be your room from here on out," Eira heard Eric say, with a hint of resoluteness, "make yourself comfortable. I will see you tomorrow night. If you need anything my room is down the hall."

Then he was gone, leaving Eira alone before an opened door that led into a large and extravagant bedroom. Tentatively she took a step into the room, setting her duffle bags by the door before turning and locking herself in. The color scheme of the room was green and gold, the floor was a dark cherry wood (with matching wooden furniture). There was a large, four-poster canopy bed with nightstands on either side of it, a tall armoire pushed off into a corner, and a vanity with a large, gilded mirror above it.

The room even had its own personal bathroom—black, glittering marble floors with pristine ivory furniture, and a large claw footed bathtub that dwarfed Eira.

"… I like this," mumbled Eira with a small smile, setting to work on unpacking her bags and transferring her things onto the vanity and into the armoire.

For now she would rest, shutting herself down for a few hours and forgetting about Godric. Sleep was what she needed, as well as a few moments of a blank mind. God only knew how much she tried…

* * *

It was quite a while before Eira woke up. There was a shadowy figure at the end of her bed, but she could not be sure if there was actually someone there, or if she was just dreaming. Her chest was rising and falling erratically, unnecessary breathes leaving her raggedly. There was a wetness running down her cheeks that she was sure were tears, and she felt hallow.

"Eir?"

Eric stood at the foot of her bed, and Eira was certainly _not_ dreaming. He was wearing a black and blue tracksuit, looking very relaxed, had his arms crossed across his broad chest, and a look of worry crossed his eyes for just a second before his stoic expression was plastered back on his face.

"You were screaming," he said simply, walking around to sit on Eira's bedside. "I assume you had a nightmare?"

Eira had not been sleeping well, having suffered from "the bleeds" days prior because she had been refusing sleep when the sun beckoned her to close her eyes. It was because she would have nightmares, nightmares that involved Godric being staked through the heart, bound and burned with silver, or the latest—meeting the sun. She had hoped that they would have gone away just for one night, but Eric was here, and he was proof that Eira's dreams had not really left her. She was scared of closing her eyes now, of seeing Godric's image bleeding and broken, wide-eyed and fearful.

"What time is it?" asked Eira meekly, sitting up in bed and resting her back against the headboard.

"6pm, the sun has already set."

"Great," mumbled Eira, running a hand through her hair, but stopped her movements once she felt Eric's hand cup her cheek.

"You're crying," he observed, tilting his head to the side questioningly. "What were your dreams about?"

Eira did not want to tell him. She had not told anyone about her dreams, no one needed to know. It would just cause the vampires of Godric's nest to worry if they knew she was having dreams of their Sheriff meeting his True Death. However, Eric was her brother, and yet… he was a stranger. They had gone hundreds of years without seeing each other face to face, and even then in their human life they never really confided in one another; they were not the best of friends—they were only siblings. They loved each other—yes, but Eric kept things to himself, and Eira was just the same. He was her protector, her blood, but not someone she told her secrets to—they did not have _that_ kind of relationship.

"I don't even know," lied Eira, and then said vaguely as to not leave him hanging, "there was fire and smoke, but that's all I can really remember—just a silly dream, I guess; nothing to worry about."

"You were screaming like a banshee," said Eric, narrowing his eyes, but left it at that. He knew that if he pressed the matter, Eira would just curl in on herself and tell him nothing. He needed to bide his time if he wanted answers. "C'mon, you and Pam will spend some time together while I take care of a few... _things_. You can help her shop."

"What kind of things?" asked Eira, not liking the tone Eric's voice had taken on; he was hiding something, but then again, so was she.

"Nothing to worry about," said Eric with a smirk, mocking his sister's earlier words, "as Sheriff of this area I have a few things to take care of."

"Right," said Eira skeptically, but let the subject drop. "So, what do I have to help Pam shop for?"

"Hair products," said Eric with a cheeky grin.

Eira quirked an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless. Then a thought struck her, and she asked, "How did you get in here? I thought I locked the door."

Eric merely held up a set of keys as an answer.

* * *

The salon supply store Pam had dragged Eira into was empty except for the scared sales clerk who stood behind the cash register. The clerk looked to be in her early twenties, with long black hair that had streaks of purple—very fitting for someone who dealt with hair, Eira supposed. The clerk was taller than Pam, and far taller than Eira, but she was cowering in fear, nervously looking down at her shoes as Pam surveyed the inside of the store with a clinical eye.

"What exactly are you going to do to Eric's hair?" Eira could not help but ask.

Pam merely looked down at her, an eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip. "Don't worry your pretty little head off."

Eira resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but nodded nonetheless. She guessed Pam was still resentful for the way she had belittled her during their first encounter. She could not blame her though. When she and Godric would fight it would never end in disaster, but one of them would always walk out on the other and disappear for an unknown amount of nights. That, or simply ignore the other until one of them cracked, and it was usually Eira. Unknown to the public, Godric was a closet romantic, and he always knew how to reel her in after one of their arguments. Whether it be with a small gesture of affection, or something extravagant like a bouquet of roses on her night stand, he always knew what would make her cave.

_Damn it_, thought Eira with a sigh, lifting up her left hand and staring blankly at what was very obviously an engagement ring. She had thought about removing it to lessen the pain in her heart (out of sight, out of mind), but she could not bear to part with her ring. She had tried to take it off, and it had only ended in bloody tears and sleepless days.

"You're married?"

Eira's head snapped up, meeting Pam who was just inches away. With a delicate hand, Pam took hold of Eira's hand, lifting it up and examining the ring closely. "What a simple thing."

"Godric was never one for extravagant tastes," Eira shrugged.

"Ah, so you're married to your maker, how's that working out for you?"

Eira found herself feeling insulted, and so she drew her hand back and stuffed it in the pocket of her jacket. "Godric and I are not married."

"Not yet, I imagine," Pam smirked. "An engagement ring then, how very interesting..."

"Yes, interesting," mumbled Eira, looking down at her shoes, "now please hurry up with your purchases, I no longer wish to be here."

"Does Eric know?"

Eira looked up, seeing the genuine curiosity in Pam's blue eyes. Would it hurt to tell her? She was Eric's progeny after all; she had spent far longer with him than she had. She would know him better. But then again she _was _Eric's progeny. Pam was loyal to Eric, and not to Eira.

"No, Eric doesn't know," sighed Eira, deciding that lying would only lead to an unwanted argument. "We got engaged on Christmas, right at midnight. He wanted to make things official. We have been together for so long without anything being set in stone that he… I don't know, I guess he just felt the need to make it all real, even though I've told him that it's not necessary."

"How sweet," said Pam, not in the least interested. "Congrats."

"You won't tell Eric, will you? I don't want him to know… not until all this is over at least."

A sickeningly sweet smile appeared across Pam's lips, making Eira slightly nervous. No one knew of her and Godric's engagement, not even Stan and Isabel, even though they suspected it because of the ring on Eira's hand. However, they had never straight out asked if the ring signified anything. Now Eira found herself feeling like a scared little girl, nervous about introducing her boyfriend to her parents. Would Eric explode, would he be happy, would he simply not care?

Eira hoped he would care.

"Tell you what," said Pam with an evil smirk, "let me do your hair and we'll keep this bit of information between you and me."

"My hair," hissed Eira, her hands flying up to her head, "I've never done anything with it, nor have I ever wanted to."

"My point exactly; you need an upgrade. Long and un-layered isn't _in_ anymore."

Eira bit her bottom lip, not wanting anything done to her hair, but nodded her head nonetheless. She did not want Eric to know. It was adding up with all the other things she needed to tell him, but she wanted to do it on her own time, and not on Eric's. Moreover, getting Godric back was of upmost importance and far more pressing then the fact that she was a bride.

"And by the way, you might want to switch fingers to make it less-obvious that you plan to marry your maker. I suggest putting it on your middle finger."

Pam had her there, and Eira was surprised that Eric had not even noticed. But then again Eric was a man, and men did not really take notice when it came to such things.

"Right," said Eira, moving her ring up a finger. "So, what are your plans with mine and Eric's hair?"

Pam simply smirked, and walked off towards a shelf with different brands of bleaching powder, leaving Eira with a small scowl.

This was slowly turning into a nightmare.


	5. Blood and Hair

On this fine, Saturday night, Fangtasia was closed to the public, which made for a drastic difference in atmosphere. The floor was clean, there was no music, and the lights were turned on to their full brightness, exposing the place for what it truly was. The nightclub actually looked elegant in the full light. Without the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, the sweaty bodies of people dancing, and the low light, Eira could appreciate Fangtasia's interior.

In the middle of the open area designated as the dance floor, Eira sat on a folded chair that Eric had brought out for her, while he sat on one of his own, facing her.

Pam was in the background, mixing powdered bleach with other hair products in a small bowl, on the bar's counter top.

"I hear that you're letting Pam cut your mane," said Eric idly, playing with the hem of the black coloring cape that had been wrapped around his torso in preparation for his highlights.

"Yes, she is," said Eira begrudgingly, playing with her hair and twirling the ends. "I guess it's time for a change."

Eira did not want to part with her waist-length hair. She had had it that length since she could remember, and Godric had always told her that he loved how her hair looked. However, maybe it _was _time for a change. Everything around her kept changing every day; first, it had been the clothes, and then other things, like technology. Even Godric had cut his hair, trading in his muddy dreadlocks for a neat, short haircut.

That was something Eira did not like about being a vampire—everything around her changed, while she stayed the same.

"I think you would look good with a pixie cut," Eric grinned teasingly, "very modern. You're face would be perfect for it."

"You're out of your bloody mind," sneered Eira. "I'll suffice with a few inches cut off, and maybe highlights. But not a—"

"_Some people think I'm an asshole_."

Eira sat up straight, looking around, confused. A voice had just suddenly spoken, and it belonged to neither Pam nor Eric.

"_It's true. I pick fights with strangers; I've cussed out old ladies_…"

"Eric," said Eira softly, still looking around the empty nightclub as the voice kept talking, "did you hear that?"

Eric merely rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder to give Pam a knowing look.

"Don't look at me," said Pam, shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards Eric with a black comb, "it's all on you, Eric."

"_All right. When I was 20, my cousin Rufus, he was going out with this girl who claimed she could crush a beer can, with her tits. And one night, when we were alone, I asked her to show me. One beer can led to another, and before you knew it, she was crushing my head with her tits. Rufus came home, and he was so mad he threw me out of the window. My hip shattered into a million pieces, and they replaced it with metal. My ass is magnetic now_…"

"**_I pray to God you ain't the last mother fucker I meet before I die_**."

Eira quirked an eyebrow and stared at Eric as Pam began to comb through his hair. Again, he merely shrugged, not giving anything away as to why Eira kept hearing two distinctly different voices conversing from somewhere inside Fangtasia.

"So, that's a nice ring you've got there," said Pam randomly with a smirk.

"Pam!" exclaimed Eira, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Am I missing something?" asked Eric, quirking an eyebrow as Pam walked back to the counter to retrieve pieces of tin foil along with the small bowl of bleach.

"No, nothing," Eira tried her best to be casual. "Pam just likes my ring. She's been _bothering me_ all night about it."

Pam just smirked.

"Well, let's see it," Eric urged. "I want to see what all the hype is about."

"_Och tro att jag äntligen värmde upp till dig_ (And to think I finally warmed up to you)," mumbled Eira, making Pam chuckle, and Eric quirk an eyebrow.

Begrudgingly, Eira removed her hands from her pockets, extending her left arm and showing off her ring, which rested on her middle finger. Eric looked down at it, a bored expression crossing his features as he turned his head to look at Pam.

"I'm surprised," he told her. "Your tastes have dwindled."

"You'd be surprised," said Pam with a hint of amusement, sending Eira a wink.

"Your progeny is a piece of work," Eira told Eric, making a small smile flitter onto his lips.

"Well, what can I say? Pam is—"

"_I got a plan. I'm busting us out_."

"**_Don't be an idiot_**."

"_I'll come back for you. Promise_..."

"**_Shut up._**"

Eira stared at Eric long and hard, her head tilted to the side. She had pinpointed the voices now. They were coming from under her feet—Fangtasia's basement. How she had not noticed the two faint sounds of beating hearts was beyond her; she had too much going on in her thoughts to be concerned with noise, she supposed.

"You're keeping _human's _here?" she asked quietly, though there was a slight edge to her voice. "Do you know of the—"

"Yes, I'm aware of what may happen," snapped Eric, glaring at his sister.

"Then why are you keeping them _here_?"

Eric merely shrugged, tilting his head to the side to allow Pam better access to his hair as she began to bleach and put in the tin foil around his highlights.

"Three of our kind have been destroyed in a fire," Eric informed Eira, "you can see that my intentions are justified."

Eira kept silent. That changed everything. Eric was Sheriff of Area 5, and it was his duty to protect the vampires that resided within his range. Still, there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Eira's stomach as she thought about the humans in Fangtasia's basement. Eric was not known for being merciful.

"How would Godric have handled this situation?" Eira heard Eric ask, genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Well," Eira hesitated, not knowing how to answer his question. Godric was not cruel, yet he was still a vampire and had his moments where his instincts would drive him. However, never had he kept any humans locked in his nest. "I don't know. Godric has changed over the years. He would have probably handed the men over to the human authorities once he got the information he needed from them."

It was true. Godric would have let the police handle it, since they were humans and not vampires. If they had been vampires, Eira was sure that Godric would have banished them from his area, or let Isabel and Stan do something about it.

"Godric has gone soft," mused Eric.

"Everyone rules differently," said Eira, shrugging.

With that Eric nodded, standing from his chair and walking off towards a side door. Pam rolled her eyes, upset that she was left standing there with the last pieces of tin foil held lightly in her hands.

"Well, _Princess_," drawled Pam, placing a hand on the back of Eric's empty chair, "you're up."

Eira sighed, but stood, running a hand through her hair before taking a seat in Eric's chair, and having Pam place a cape around her shoulders similar to the one Eric had been wearing, but it was pink instead of black.

"Don't cut off a lot, please," said Eira. "A few inches at the most would be fine. Godric… he likes my hair long."

Pam chuckled but nonetheless nodded, walking off to only return seconds later with a comb and a pair of scissors in her hands.

"This is gonna be fun," said Pam in a fake, cheery voice.

"Don't get too crazy," hissed Eira, eyes narrowed.

Pam merely rolled her eyes, parting Eira's hair with her comb and weaving her scissors through it. The more she sheared off the more Eira grew worried. She had grown attached to her long hair, and God only knew what Pam would do to it.

"Done."

To say that Eira was surprised was an understatement. It hadn't even been a minute. She quickly ran her hands through her hair, noticing that it was remotely the same length, give or take an inch or two, and that the only other thing that Pam had done to it was add a few layers.

"Now for the fun part," Pam mused, walking off to retrieve the discarded bowl of bleach, along with various sheets of tin foil.

Therefore, Eira sat there, feeling ridiculous as Pam wrapped sections of her hair in tin foil after applying the bleach. However, she had to admit, she liked feeling pampered, even though it was all really blackmail and for Pam's personal entertainment.

"Now let it set for about 50 minutes, then rinse it out," Pam informed Eira after the deed was done, "then you're going to let me style it."

"I'm your Barbie now, aren't I?"

"Yes," smirked Pam, and then rolled her eyes as screaming began to echo throughout Fangtasia. It was coming from the basement.

"He's killing the humans, isn't he?" Eira asked softly, cringing as she heard the screams lessen. Either it meant that whoever Eric was torturing was dying, or that they had passed out, or worse… if it could get any worse.

"Yes, he is, but don't worry, Eric has a knack for getting himself out of—" but before Pam could finish her sentence, Eric entered the room, covered in blood, and dragging behind him a very distressed looking black man.

Eric stopped for a moment, taking in Eira's appearance, and Eira figured she looked ridiculous. Eric had a smirk on his face and it looked like he was fighting off a laugh. All Eira could do was roll her eyes and direct her attention to the man who was looking between her and her brother, a look of disbelief in his brown eyes. They both had tin foil in their hair after all, and if she were an onlooker, she would have laughed, finding two vampires getting their hair done by another the biggest joke in history.

"This is a disaster!" Pam suddenly exclaimed, glaring at Eric's bloody hair. "We'll have to go much shorter than I planned!"

"Yeah well, sorry," Eric brushed her off, pushing the man forwards so that he almost fell at Eira's feet, "but he took silver to me. Eir, defend me."

Eira sighed, and looked at Eric's face closely. True to his words, there was a cross-shaped burn on the apple of his cheek, which was rapidly healing. She quickly shook her head and then looked at the human curiously. He was dressed simply in cargo pants and a black tank top, was muscular, and appeared to be wearing golden eye shadow, which Eira found curious.

"I don't know what it is you wanna know, but point me in the direction, and I give it to you," the man suddenly spoke, his voice laden with a slight Cajun accent.

"I've seen your website. It is quite… low rent. But your clients miss you. They're wondering if you're ever coming back," said Eric to the man in a bored tone, walking to the empty folded chair in front of Eira, and taking a seat.

Pam immediately went to work on his hair the moment he sat down. Her plan had been to cut off a few inches of his golden locks, but with the amount of blood splattered all over his hair, and mixing with the bleach, she'd have to cut his hair much shorter than initially planned, or else he'd be sure to have red highlights, and that was a definite 'no' in Pam's book.

"Am I?" the human asked, looking skeptical. "Look, I'm here because of the_ V_, right? How 'bout I give you the names of everybody I ever sold to?

"You sell vampire blood?" asked Eira, looking at the man with disgust. "The blood is _sacred._"

Eric stared at his sister; her words reminded him of Godric. Those had been the same words his maker had once told him, and it proved to him that his sister's bond with his maker ran deep, possibly deeper than his own connection with Godric. There was a story between them, one he would surely find out in time.

"You do what you gotta do to survive," the man shrugged, making Eira shake her head, disappointed in humanity.

"The vampire you had your little arrangement with," Eric spoke up after a moment, "Eddie Fournier. What happened to him?"

"I don't know," the human shrugged. "I swear to God I don't. Last time I saw him he was doing real good. But I think he may have been taken by somebody."

"By whom?"

"I don't know… I mean, I ain't sure."

"That's not very forthcoming of you," Eric glared, and then turned to Eira. "Eir, are you hungry?"

"No!" exclaimed the human, scared. "Chill out. Shit. I think it… I think it was… Jason Stackhouse."

"Jason Stackhouse?" repeated Eric, a look of distaste crossing his features.

"Sookie's brother. Could be fun," said Pam with a small smirk, carefully continuing her task of picking out the tinfoil in her maker's hair.

"Fun, but also stupid," Eric sighed. "Sookie is too important for us now."

"That's true."

"Who's Sookie?" asked Eira, wanting to be more involved in the conversation. She did not like being a third wheel, but it appeared that that was all she was here, unless Eric deemed it necessary to use her as a "scare" tactic for the human.

"Sadly this information is of no use to me. Not now, anyway," said Eric, ignoring Eira's question, and her frustrated sigh. "I understand that dealers of vampire blood sometimes trade product with one another across state lines; any buyers in the Dallas area?"

Eira did not like where this conversation was going.

"One."

Eira sucked in a deep breath, staring at the human with a clinical eye.

"He never gave me his name though. I have an e-mail address: **pussylover9 **_at_** shemail **_dot_** com**."

"How could you make deals without asking for a name!" screamed Eira, not being able to restrain her emotions, rising from her seat and causing the human to finch.

"Eir, calm down," sighed Eric, giving his sister a pointed look. He then turned to look at the human, looking him up and down before saying, "A friend of mine in the Dallas area—his name is Godric—has gone missing. Now, while the circumstances of his disappearance are _unclear_, it stands to reason his blood would be very valuable, he's over twice my age… and ten times the vampire I will ever be."

"Eric, you don't do humble well," said Pam with a smirk, walking away from him and towards the bar, all of the tinfoil in Eric's hair now in her hands. All that she would need to do next was cut his hair and then wash it, something she was not looking forward in doing.

"I was not being humble. It happens to be true," said Eric flippantly, and then sent Eira a small smile, before turning his attentions back to the human. "Your associate, this '_pussylover_'; has he or she mentioned any new product coming out on the market?"

_Godric might be being used for his blood_, thought Eira, beginning to pace the room. She did not like that thought, not one bit. Godric was old, and yes, he was also powerful, but he was vulnerable all the same. If a significant amount of blood was taken from him, it could literally be the end of him. In addition, with how he refused to feed, only taking one or two bottles of TruBlood a month… Eira did not know what to think. She could feel the tears already building in her eyes, but she fought them off. She had to be strong. If she was weak then there was no hope for getting Godric back.

"No, no. And I would tell you, you know that," sighed the human.

"Eir, be a dear and take our guest and lock him back up, will you?"

Eira stopped cold, turning to look at her brother with a dark glare. She did not want anything to do with the human. He sold vampire blood, and that was something that Eira could not let go, especially now with thoughts of Godric being used for his blood floating around in her brain.

"I may share your blood, but I am not your slave," she hissed. "I will not touch that human."

"Fine," Eric sighed, looking over at Pam expectantly, "Pam."

Pam crinkled her nose in disgust, but followed her maker's request and advanced towards the human after setting aside the small bowl of bleach she had been brooding over, taking his arm in her hand and roughly pushing him forwards.

"Fuck, I ain't going back down there. I gave you—"

"You gave me nothing!" shouted Eric, finally letting it show just how irritated he really was.

"I'm not going back!"

"Pam, now," snapped Eric, waving his hand.

Eira watched as Pam dragged away the human, disappearing behind the door that Eric had entered from moments earlier. Her thoughts floated back to Godric and the possibility that he was being used for his blood. The tears that had been building up in her eyes finally broke free, spilling and coating her cheeks. She could not lose Godric, he was her everything. He had taken care of her, protected her, and made sure that everything she needed would be at her disposal.

He had **made** her!

Two strong arms wrapped around Eira, and she looked up, seeing Eric stare down at her with a pained look in his eyes.

"You love him," he said as a fact, and Eira nodded. "I saw the ring on your hand, before you moved it to your middle finger. I just didn't feel like saying anything. I wasn't sure, but your… _emotions_, they've confirmed my suspicions."

"You're smarter than you look," Eira chuckled dryly, burying her head in Eric's chest and inhaling. The blood that coated his clothes was still fresh, and it was making her thirsty. She had not fed in weeks, having lost her appetite with all that had been going on, but now her thirst was coming back full force, and she knew she would have to force herself to feed eventually.

"When will you tell me everything? You're hiding too much."

"I could say the same thing about you," said Eira, pulling away and looking down at her left hand. The white gold band was gleaming up at her, reminding her of why she was crying, and why she was in Louisiana in the first place.

"I live a private life," Eric shrugged, taking his sister's hand in his, and pulling her ring off to slide it back on its previous finger.

"So you're not mad?" asked Eira hesitantly.

"No, not really. You have my blessings… but I do expect certain answers from you."

Eira was beaming, looking up at her brother with love and respect. Eric may be an ass, but he had good intentions… most of the time.

"Thank you," Eira smiled, hugging her brother tightly. "Thank you so much."

"No problem, Eir," said Eric, kissing the top of her head before pulling away. "Now come along, let us wash our hair and get a change of clothes. You have blood all over you."

"**_I _**have blood all over me?" Eira hissed sarcastically.

Eric shrugged his shoulder, flicking her nose with his index finger playfully.

* * *

**Friendly reminder: **The more reviews I get, the more goodies _**you**_ get.


	6. The Minotaur

Eira was running out of time. She had promised Isabel to be back by at least Monday night, but it was now Sunday night and she was sitting in Eric's office, getting her nails done by Pam while Eric was off in Fangtasia's main floor, sitting on his throne and calling up anyone he could think of to help him gather information on Godric.

By the looks of it, Eira was not leaving any time soon.

"You have nice hands."

Eira stared at Pam curiously, not liking the tiny smirk that was forming on Pam's pink lips.

"Um, you have nice pumps," said Eira awkwardly, not knowing what else to say, and being genuinely honest. Pam was wearing pink pumps that had a heel of 5 inches and looked to be made of patent leather; they matched her outfit of the night: a pink skirt with a matching blazer. Eira had to admit that it made her want a pair of her own, as opposed to the black flats she was currently sporting.

"So, I heard you talking on the phone earlier tonight, right after the sun set," started Pam in an off-handed, conversational tone, "You were practically yelling. Care to explain what that was all about, Princess?"

There it was again, that nickname Pam did not stop using—**Princess**. Eira did not like it, but she could understand why Pam kept using it. She and Eric were the children of a Viking chieftain; they were royalty amongst their clan… though Eira never heard Pam call Eric "Prince" or "King". She was sure it was mainly used to mock her.

"I got in an argument with Isabel," Eira told Pam against her better judgement, "I asked her if she and the others had gotten any news on Godric, and she told me that they had a lead, but that she couldn't share the information with me. She fears that I'll do something drastic, like slaughter a whole town. I'm capable of it, I know that, but I'm not that stupid as to put myself in that kind of danger. However, Godric… for him I'd do anything, literally. If it means slaughtering a whole town, being exposed to _the Authority_, given the True Death… I'd do it. Just as long as Godric is safe, that's all that really matters to me. I could care less about what happens to be, but him…"

Pam stayed quiet for a moment, her head tilted down while her eyes stared blankly at Eira's hands, which she held. Eira could tell that Pam was suddenly deep in thought, and she wanted to know what Pam was thinking, but she decided to wait and see if something would slip past Pam's lips on her very own without having to coax any information out of her. She was Eric's progeny after all, Eira wanted to get closer to her, to get to know her and see why Eric had chosen her to be his child. However, Pam was proving to be a hard shell to crack.

"Pam," asked Eira softly after a long stretch of silence, "what are you thinking of, if you don't mind me asking?"

Pam blinked, finally looking away from Eira's hands. She quickly set aside the small bottle of pink nail varnish before standing up from the sofa they both shared. There was a glazed look in her eyes, like something heavy was clouding her thoughts and she was not all there, but then she looked down at Eira, just staring at her for a moment, before placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know what I'd do if I was in your place, but what I do know is that I'd do anything for Eric," and then Pam was gone, leaving the office door open, and Eira sitting on the sofa, a stunned look on her pale face.

Pam's outer shell was breaking. It made a warm feeling travel through Eira, making her physically shiver, but then she realized that she had felt this before. It was a tingling sensation, which was pleasurable and made her whole body hum. She had missed this feeling—she was being summoned.

"**ERIC**!"

Eira ran from the room, skidding to a stop in front of her brother's throne, where the man himself was sitting still. He had his phone held in both of his hands, and his thumbs were nothing but blurs as he typed out a text message quickly. His hair was now cropped short, and it had taken a few minutes for Eira to get used to it at first, but it did work for him, better than his long hair, actually. Her hair on the other hand… it was still long, but now layered, and her new highlights made her light blonde hair look almost white. It would take her some time to get used to her knew look, but she had to admit that it was very tasteful, and nicely done.

"Eric," Eira began, her eyes wide and a large smile filling her face. She waited for a moment for Eric to get off his phone, but Eric was still too busy texting furiously.

"Eric."

"In a minute, Eir…"

"No," Eira sighed impatiently, "right _now_, Eric!"

"Eir, I need you to wait," mumbled Eric in return, his eyes glued to his phone.

Eira was left with no other choice than to do something she remembered doing as a child, which was say Eric's name repeatedly in different voices until he threw something at her, or stormed out of the room. She remembered it being very effective, albeit childish… and a bit dangerous. He'd thrown an apple at her once, knocking out one of her baby teeth.

"Eric, _Eric_, **Eric**, Eeeeric, **_ERIC_****—**"

"**WHAT**!" yelled Eric, looking away from his phone and down to a beaming Eira. A large smile was plastered on her lips, she had her hands behind her back, and she was now bouncing on the balls of her feet. She looked like an impatient child on Christmas morning, and to top it all off, the pink dress that Pam had forced her into, along with the curled pigtails, made her look all the more childlike.

"I can feel—" but Eira never got a chance to say anything else, for just then, there was a hurried knock on Fangtasia's closed doors, which made her stop her sentence short. She looked up at her brother, a confused expression on her face as she said, "I thought Fangtasia was closed for the night."

"I thought so too," mumbled Eric with a slight sneer. "Eir, go open the door and tell whoever is there that Fangtasia will be closed until further notice."

"Okay, but I need to tell you about what happened just now," said Eira, and she would have told him too, if the knocking on the door had not of cut her off again.

"Now, Eir," Eric told her impatiently, "before I open that door myself and kill whoever is out there."

"Maybe it is Pam," Eira thought aloud as she made her way over to Fangtasia's entrance. Pam was nowhere in sight, and she could not sense her, so she assumed that Pam had walked out for a few moments and had gotten herself locked out.

"It's not Pam. She's returned home for the night."

Now Eira was genuinely curious. She wondered who would be stupid enough to venture to a vampire nightclub when it was obviously closed. She pitied the human that had wasted their time in driving all the way over to Fangtasia, but as she opened the doors, she was met with a curious sight.

There was a vampire standing before Eira, carrying a blonde human woman that smelled strange. Her scent reminded Eira of the sun, and honey, and something similar to wheat, but there was also something else about her smell, something that reminded Eira of rotten flesh. Nevertheless, the human's scent made Eira's fangs involuntarily extend with a sharp click, and it did not help that the human's back was exposed, drenched in blood.

"Who are you," the vampire asked her suspiciously, looking Eira up and down and taking a step back.

"Eira Northman," said Eira skeptically, retracting her fangs with a click. "Who are **you**?"

"Northman?" the vampire asked, looking at Eira in disbelief.

"Yes, now, who are you?" asked Eira impatiently.

"Bill Compton, I need to speak with Eric," the vampire said simply.

Eira nodded, holding up a finger to indicate that he give her a minute, before looking over her shoulder at her bother. Eric nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket and standing up, reaching her side in seconds.

"Your human can't stay out of trouble, can she?" said Eric off-handedly, after looking at the blonde-haired woman.

"You know how Sookie is," Bill sighed.

_Oh, so this is Sookie_, Eira thought, stepping aside and watching Eric lead Bill to a table where he indicated that Bill place Sookie on. _Her brother uses V, what a disgrace_.

"Who are you?" Eira looked down to see that Sookie was looking up at her curiously, her blue eyes filled with wonder, albeit she was still in pain.

"Eira North—"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Sookie cut her off weakly. "But how is it that you're a Northman?"

"Eric is my brother," Eira told her simply.

Silence filled the room after that, Sookie and Bill both staring at Eira as if she was the second coming of Jesus. It made Eira feel uncomfortable, and so she walked away, towards the stage where she settled herself down on Eric's throne. Eric simply rolled his eyes, walking over to stand beside Bill, who was still looking at Eira.

"What happened?" questioned Eric, taking his phone out of his pocket, "it looks like she's been mauled by a bear."

"We don't know what happened," said Bill, finally taking his eyes off Eira.

"I know who to call, a friend of mine owes me a favor," Eric informed him, looking down at Sookie.

"She smells like rotten meat," said Eira softly, and then bit her lip as she realized how rude she had sounded. "I didn't mean to offend."

Eric chuckled, and walked towards his office, typing a number on his cell phone before disappearing through the door.

"I smell rotten?" asked Sookie, trying to move, but wincing. She had large claw marks on her back that were covered in blood, and the flesh around the wounds were turning black. Blood had stopped oozing out of her wounds, but now, there was a white filmy liquid filling the space between the torn skin—probably pus, which would indicate an infection, and be the cause of the nasty smell.

"Like I said earlier, I didn't mean to offend," reminded Eira, hopping down from Eric's throne to appear at Bill's side, "but you smell like rotten meat. I'm sure your Bill can agree with me."

Bill was reluctant, but nodded.

"It's the claw marks, I'm sure," said Eira softly, leaning down to sniff Sookie's back, "maybe you've been poisoned. What did this to you?"

"I couldn't see," said Sookie softly, "it was dark, but it had horns, like a bull."

"Did it have the body of a man?" asked Eira with interest.

"I think so," mumbled Sookie.

Eira nodded, dwelling on her thoughts for a moment before something struck her, but she knew it could not be possible. It had only been a myth, a legend, just some story told by the Greeks. Nevertheless, could it be possible that there was some truth to the old fable?

"The Minotaur," said Eira after a moment, crossing her arms. "It has the head of a bull, the body of a man; it could be possible that that is what attacked you."

"Impossible, Eir," Eric's voice floated into the room, and he was suddenly standing beside her. "The Minotaur was only a story."

"I lived in Crete for a while," said Eira without thinking, making Eric look down at her curiously. "I never paid the Cretan's stories much attention, but I do remember the Minotaur and the Labyrinth. Could it be possible that Theseus never killed the Minotaur?"

"_Du har alltid älskat sagor_ (You always loved fairy tales)…" mumbled Eric.

Eira rolled her eyes and looked up at her brother. "_Nu är jag i Disney-filmer ska du se arkivet har jag samlat genom åren_ (Now I'm into Disney movies, you should see the collection I've gathered throughout the years)."

Of course, Eira was being sarcastic, but there was some truth behind her words. She had every Disney movie in existence, her favorite so far being **Beauty and the Beast**.

"You two are totally related," mumbled Sookie, making both Eira and Eric look down at her, both their arms crossed and their eyebrows raised in question. "Oh, I can definitely see the resemblance now."

Eira turned to Bill, telling him, "You have a charming human, and yes, I'm being _sarcastic._"

Bill said nothing.


	7. Authority

Dr. Ludwig was a tiny, odd-looking woman with a hunched back, dressed in floral print scrubs. To be frank, Eira thought the doctor looked like a gremlin… or a troll, but despite the good doctor's appearance, she was professional and efficient, and very meticulous in her practice. She was courteous if you showed her the same respect, and talked in a clipped, no-nonsense tone of voice.

Eira had been skeptical at first as the tiny woman entered Fangtasia, totting along a black leather bag filled with all her medical instruments and a dark look in her sharp eyes as she examined everyone with a clinical eye. There was just something about the doctor that set Eira's teeth on edge; however, after seeing Dr. Ludwig perform her medical magic on Sookie, Eira was sure that the little doctor was the best of the best… and the best they were going to get in a situation such as theirs. They could not just simply take Sookie to a regular doctor, after all. What had attacked her was something supernatural, and they needed to treat the injuries accordingly.

Sitting cross-legged on the flat roof of Fangtasia, Eira had her cell phone on her lap, set to speakerphone. She was talking with Isabel, or more like _trying_ to talk with Isabel, because as expected, the Latin vampire was not giving Eira anything substantial on the disappearance of Godric. Nevertheless, Eira preferred being outside on the roof, getting nowhere, rather than downstairs with everyone else. Once Dr. Ludwig had begun performing her medical magic on the wounds on Sookie's back, the blonde human had begun screaming bloody murder. The noise was grating and high pitched, and Eira did not need that right now. As it were, she could still hear the girl's screams, but being outside allowed Eira enough distractions to block out Sookie's voice entirely.

If Eira were human, she supposed she'd have a migraine—oh, the perks of being undead.

"You will be back within the week, yes?" asked Isabel, a slight edge to her voice, one that Eira chose to ignore.

"Yes," replied Eira with a sigh. "Some things have happened here that will delay my return. I will be back before week's end, though; fear not."

There was a pause, and Eira heard what appeared to be the sound of paper rustling in the background, along with a door opening and closing. Someone else had entered the room Isabel was currently occupying, no doubt, and Eira got her answer when she heard the gruff voice of Stan asking Isabel if she was going to end her conversation soon.

"In a moment, Stan," said Isabel in the background, before her voice came properly through the phone's receiver, saying, "Be safe, Eira. We all miss you, know that."

"Oh no," exclaimed Eira, annoyed. She knew what Isabel as trying to do, and she would not allow it, not this time. Speaking strongly, with authority, she demanded, "You will **not** hang up! Don't you **dare** end this call—you have not given me **_any_** new information!"

"You know why we can't," sighed Isabel.

"And your reason sucks!" yelled Eira like the teenager she looked like. "This is nonsense! I want to know what you have all been keeping from me! Godric is **_my_** maker, not yours! I have a _right_ to know what is happening—he doesn't mean _shit_ to you!"

There was a moment of silence, before Isabel said quietly, "This is why we fear telling you. You're emotions are too strong, and you could compromise what we've gathered should we let you know that we've learned."

"Fuck you!" spat Eira, finally losing it. "You have no fucking idea how much this is affecting me! You do not know what I'm going through, not knowing if Godric is being tortured or… or something else! I know you and everyone at the nest love and respect him, but not like me! He is _mine_! _My_ maker—_my_ everything, and you are _killing me_ by not telling me anything about him!"

"Eira," pleaded Isabel, "please, you must understand that—"

"I **_FELT_** HIM EARLIER!" screamed Eira, tears gathering in her eyes.

"He summoned you," said Isabel in quiet astonishment.

"Yes," said Eira desperately. "Now, you will tell me everything you know, or everyone who knows more than me will be given the True Death by _my hand_—and I'll start with **you**!"

A quiet gasp left Isabel, and then she said, aghast, "You do not have the authority to—"

"**I HAVE ****_ALL_**** THE AUTHORITY TO GIVE OUT SUCH PUNISHMENT**!" screamed Eira, before saying quietly, viciously, "You must remember that I have two vampires working inside _the Authority_, so believe me, I will not even be looked upon should the entire population of Dallas vampires suddenly… _disappear_."

Never had Eira exploded in such a manner, but enough was enough—she needed answers, and she had finally run out of patience. It stunned Isabel to the point of almost dropping her phone, and it made her wonder if telling Eira next to nothing was such a good idea anymore; it was doing more harm than good, after all. Gone was the quiet, pleasant Eira that she had come to know and love, and in her place was a vampire willing to do anything to get her maker back.

If that wasn't loyalty (and love), Isabel didn't know what was.

"Have you told Eric of your summon?" asked Isabel after a long stretch of silence, wanting to change the conversation's direction. "Could you feel a location?"

"No," said Eira quietly, having calmed down. "It was just… a feeling. Godric summoned me, but I did not get an exact feel in what direction he was in—I just felt his presence. I was going to tell Eric, but something happened before I got the change to tell him anything."

"What happened?" asked Isabel curiously.

"Nothing important," said Eira flippantly, and then added as an afterthought, "nothing important to **our** situation, anyways. The human of a friend of Eric's got attacked by a bull-headed creature, or so the girl claims. In short, she's been poisoned, and is currently being treated by one of Eric's associates."

"A bull-headed creature?" repeated Isabel thoughtfully. "It has the body of a human, I presume?"

"Yes, it does," confirmed Eira, undoing her pigtails idly, "I said that it could be the Minotaur, but Eric shot down my suggestion."

"It makes sense, though."

"It does," replied Eira, before saying rhetorically, "What other creature is there that fits that description?"

There was a pause, in which Eira could hear the rustling of paper, and Stan's hushed voice asking Isabel what was going on, before Isabel said, sounding apologetic, "Eira, I must go. There are some papers I need to review."

"Which no doubt pertain to Godric's disappearance, and which you will no doubt be telling me nothing about," snapped Eira with an irritated sigh.

"You know why, Eira," said Isabel with a sorry sigh.

"Fine, whatever—go on. You and Stan better be making progress. I **expect** to be close in getting Godric back by the time I arrive… and mark my words, Isabel, you may be my friend, but you are _nothing_ compared to Godric."

"I promise you, Eira," said Isabel, sounding sincere, "you will know all, but not now. Give it time. We'll get him back, I promise."

"Don't make promises you don't intent to keep, Isabel," said Eira softly, before ending the phone call with a few brief, parting words.

With a rueful sigh, Eira pocketed her phone and looked up at the night sky. There were far more stars visible than there were in Dallas, but she supposed it had to do with the city's large size in comparison to Louisiana's Shreveport. Just seeing the stars reminded Eira of Godric, but now a days, everything reminded her of him.

She hoped Godric was well; his summon confirmed his existence, and it gave Eira some form of hope. However, there was still to see in what condition Godric was in, and just the mere thought of him being hurt, in any way, made Eira feel sick.

"_I'll see you soon, my love_," whispered Eira in Gaulish as she looked up at the stars, picking out the constellations that Godric had taught her throughout the years.

Sadly, Eira did not have much time to dwell on the placement of stars, for in that moment, the sound of two speeding footsteps alerted her of the presence of two vampires arriving, and one of them smelled like a very expensive perfume—_CHANEL_, if Eira was to guess.

There was only one vampire in Shreveport that Eira knew smelled of CHANEL.

Jumping down from the roof with ease, Eira came face to face with Pam, and a tall—and rather plump—Asian vampire wearing a nicely tailored suit.

"Chow, this is Eira," said Pam in a bored tone. "Eira, this is Chow."

"I've heard much about you," said Chow politely, nodding his head curtly at Eira instead of offering her a hand to shake. "Pam tells me you're a Northman."

Eira nodded, giving him a small smile.

"C'mon Princess," said Pam with a small smirk, taking Eira's hand in hers, and leading her into Fangtasia. "We can't keep Eric waiting, now can we?"

* * *

**Fun fact:** Eira mentioned that she has two vampires working in the Authority.  
One of those vampires is a new OC that will make her appearance in chapters to come.


	8. Favors

Sitting on the countertop at the bar, with a bottle of TruBlood resting between her thighs, Eira was two seconds away from throwing said bottle at Bill Compton's head. He kept a watchful eye on her, a look of mistrust in his dark orbs. Every move she made he followed clinically, as if waiting for Eira to lunge and attack, and it annoyed her that this vampire was so quick to judge. She understood that there was bad blood between him and her brother, and she did not even want to begin to go there, because surely, there was a story behind Bill's hostile glare, but that did not give him the right to think that she and Eric were one in the same.

She was Eira Northman, not **_Eric_** Northman—Bill needed to understand that.

Nevertheless, Eira could sympathize with Bill. He was probably extra cautious because of Sookie. Eira could see it in his facial expressions and how he moved that he was in serious pain, probably feeling impotent that he had to rely on the help of others to aid his human. It was kind of like how Eira felt with the situation of Godric's disappearance, however, it still irked her that Bill looked at her as if she were going to drain Sookie dry.

_O, ye of little faith_, thought Eira with a smirk as she grabbed her bottle and raised it up to her lips. The second her tongue met with the metallic flavor of synthetic blood, she nearly gagged. It _always_ tasted like dirt, no matter what blood type it mimicked.

"I have human donors on call," offered Eric from her left where he leaned against the countertop, a smug smirk on his lips.

"And as I said earlier," replied Eira with a scowl, "no thank you. I just have to get used to this again—it's been a while since my last feeding."

"And whose fault is that?" asked Eric with a condescending smile.

"Shut up," mumbled Eira with a glare, downing the rest of her bottle, and nearly choking. With a cringe she said, "Doesn't compare to human blood, but it gets the job done."

She handed the bottle to Eric, who proceeded to throw it away before reappearing at Eira's side, all in the span of two seconds.

"Tell me again why you refuse human blood?" asked Eric flippantly, but a curious look flashed across his eyes, one that Eira knew all too well.

"I never said such a thing," replied Eira, giving her brother a look, "and it's not that I refuse to drink from humans, I just… I rather not have _that_ kind of blood on my hands right now."

Eric gave his sister a questioning look, and Eira sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It's been _a while_ since I've last fed," she told him pointedly.

It only took a second for Eira's words to make sense, and Eric chuckled.

"You're afraid of losing control?" asked Eric with an amused smile. "Who would have thought…?"

Eira huffed in annoyance, and nudged her brother with her foot as if to shut him up.

The two siblings remained silent after that, watching Dr. Ludwig from across the room. The doctor was leaning over Sookie's back, applying a black paste over the large wounds.

"Do you think Pam and Chow will find anything on the highway?" asked Eira after a moment, referring to _Highway 71 _(where Sookie had been attacked), and the fact that Eric had ordered his progeny and Chow to search the surrounding area for any clues as to the identity of the creature that had attacked Sookie.

"I doubt it," murmured Eric softly, so that Bill would not hear.

"Why?" asked Eira curiously, shifting her weight on the countertop and bringing her legs up, folding them underneath her, facing Eric.

"Why have you not mentioned anything about your summon yet?" asked Eric in return, ignoring her question, a smirk on his lips.

"What exactly did you manage to hear?" asked Eira guardedly, tilting her head to the side in question.

"You felt the call," Eric said simply, "and also something about—"

"You can give her blood now," Dr. Ludwig's voice interrupted Eric, "her body should accept it."

In an instant Eric was across the room, hovering over Sookie, as Bill glared at him.

"Mine is much stronger," said Eric smoothly, "allow me."

"Never," hissed Bill, before turning to look down at Sookie, and speaking softly, "Sookie, can you hear me? You must drink..."

Eira watched the exchange with interest, her eyes intently on Eric's face. A strange look crossed Eric's eyes as Bill bit into his wrist and offered Sookie his blood—Eira hoped that she was mistaken, but it almost looked like Eric was envious of Bill. It made her crinkle her nose in disgust. Eira was against humans drinking from vampires, unless it was to create another of their kin, to create a bond with a human companion, or if a dire need for vampire's blood was needed, for example if the human was dying. Other than that, Eira did not understand how vampires could frivolously offer their livelihood so willingly. Eric had no business offering his blood to Sookie—he was not her vampire, and she was not his human companion. That's what Bill was there for.

The blood was sacred, and she had existed believing that for many years now. It was a belief that Godric had instilled into her mind, and she assumed that it was something taught to Eric as well. However, the envious look that cross Eric's eyes for just a moment as Sookie's lips touched Bill's wrist, said otherwise.

"I'll expect my payment by the end of the week," said Dr. Ludwig as she gathered her things, pulling Eira out of her thoughts.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you, Dr. Ludwig," said Eric politely, putting on his fake, charming smile, as Dr. Ludwig headed for the doors.

Dr. Ludwig paused once she reached the front doors, as if she were about to say something, but all that happened was her eyes narrowed, and she turned around, pushing the doors open and leaving without a second glance over her shoulder.

"Clearly the pleasure was one-sided," said Bill mockingly.

Eira couldn't help it, she giggled. It earned her a glare from her brother.

"Well, she's no fan of the fang. She tolerates us, because our blood is of such great value to healers," and then casually, with a glance in Sookie's direction, Eric threw in, "Be careful. You'll overcook her."

Bill looked down at Sookie, staring at her for a moment before he began to pull his wrist away from her mouth. "All right..."

"Thank you," Sookie told Bill meekly, sitting up properly with Bill's help, a hand on her chest, preventing her torn shirt from falling and exposing anything. The vampire blood was making her stronger by the second, and judging by the amount she had drank, Eira deduced that Sookie would be fine come morning.

"Now," said Eric, walking over to stand in front of his sister, "what's this about you having the authority to deal out the True Death?"

"Eric," sighed Eira, running a hand through her hair in frustration, "can we not talk about this right now? You have _guests_."

"They can wait," said Eric with a shrug, "but I can't. I want an answer, Eir."

"I got a bit carried away," said Eira quietly, casting a glance at Sookie and Bill, who were looking at she and her brother curiously. "I wouldn't actually do it—I just wanted to scare Isabel, you know? Get my point across, and all that."

"And you felt his call," said Eric, crossing his arms.

"Yes. I was going to tell you about it earlier, but you were on your phone and then we got guests," said Eira, shrugging. "It was only a feeling I got from him—not an exact location."

"_Har du någon aning om varför han kallade dig_ (Do you have an idea why he summoned you)?" asked Eric in Swedish, obviously not wanting Bill and Sookie to know about what they were talking about.

"_Nej_ (No)," said Eira with a dejected sigh. "_Har han försökt att kalla dig_ (Has he tried to summon _you_)?"

"_Inte en enda gang_ (Not once)," said Eric scornfully.

"_Vad ska vi göra_ (What are we going to do)?" asked Eira softly.

With a sigh, Eric placed a hand on his sister's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"All will be fine," said Eric softly, leaning forward to kiss Eira's forehead. "_Oroa dig inte_ (Do not worry)."

"What are you two talking about?" asked Sookie curiously before Eira got a change to tell Eric anything.

"_Ingen av din oro_ (None of your concern)," said Eira with narrowed eyes, moving away from her brother's touch and hoping down from the countertop, her hair bouncing around her shoulders and back.

Godric was a touchy subject for Eira, and she did not want others knowing of her business when it came to him. Like her brother, she too was private when it came to certain aspects of her life, and her love life was a definite "NO" on her list.

"You heard the lady," said Eric, placing a hand on Eira's shoulder. "It's none of your concern."

"Well, it would be nice if ya'll spoke in English," said Sookie, sending Eira a small, friendly smile. She thought Eira was just too cute, with her big blue eyes, blonde hair, and pretty pink dress—she couldn't see Eira as the vampire she truly was, and so she wasn't as cautious as anyone else would have been upon learning Eira's age.

Eira looked like a doll to Sookie, and Sookie wanted to befriend her. She couldn't be as bad as Eric, could she?

"_Jag kommer att tala på alla språk som du inte kan tyda_ (I will speak in any language that you cannot decipher)," muttered Eira childishly, making Eric chuckle.

"_Var trevlig_ (Be nice)," said Eric, then asked seriously, in English for Sookie's benefit, "How many languages can you speak?"

"More than the average vampire," said Eira vaguely, then turned to look at Sookie, and asked casually, "What are you?"

Sookie quirked an eyebrow, confused, and Eira noticed Bill inch closer to her, as if to protect her from an oncoming attack, a knowing, distrustful look in his eyes. Eric merely looked down at Eira with a curious expression, one of his perfect brows quirked up. All of that made Eira roll her eyes.

"Please, tell me you can smell it," said Eira, waving a hand in Sookie's direction as she looked up at her brother, "no _human_ can smell like that."

"I smell?" asked Sookie dumbly, looking slightly offended.

Eira sighed, shaking her head as she gave Sookie an apologetic look. "Not like that."

Sookie turned pink.

Since the moment Sookie was brought through Fangtasia's front doors, her smell stood out to Eira. At first, Eira had paid it minimal attention, but now that she had been exposed to it for a prolonged period, and the smell of rotten flesh no longer masked it, she could not help but to think about it in depth and realize that it was not the average smell of a human.

It made Eira curious, and the light, flowery scent that rolled off Sookie reminded Eira of someone else, someone close…

"In what way then, Eir," asked Eric.

Eira shrugged. She could not really explain it. "She smells like… the sun."

"She's human, she's able to—"

"No, Bill, not in that way," Eira cut him off. "The sun... well, more like a light; it's a scent coming from within her, not off her skin."

"Are you saying that I have the sun in my… skin?" asked Sookie skeptically.

"Something like that," said Eira with a little smile. "So, what are you?"

"She's a telepath," Eric informed Eira, receiving a dark look from Bill, which let Eira know that Bill was not comfortable with Sookie's abilities being in the lime light.

Eira made a face, which gained a glare from Bill. She assumed he thought she was put-off by the fact that Sookie was special, but really, Eira was just making a face to convey her surprise at finding out this piece of information. She was very expressive like that.

"I've met telepaths in the past, and they do not have your scent. You're not exactly human," said Eira smartly, giving Sookie a look.

"You say that with confidence," mused Eric, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"Because I _am_ confident," said Eira, looking up at Eric as she said, "Sookie is _not_ human… at least not fully."

"I'm still in the room, ya know?" spoke up Sookie, slightly annoyed that she was being talked about as if she were not there.

"Sorry," said Eira, sounding sincere, but there was a tiny, mocking smile on her lips.

"So, if I'm not human, then what am I?" asked Sookie impatiently.

Now that, Eira was not sure of, and she told her honestly, "I've no idea, but you should not fret. Being different isn't so bad."

A strange, faraway look crossed Eric's eyes, and he scoffed, mumbling, "You are the epitome of the word _different,_ Eir."

"How do you figure?" asked Eira with a small smile.

"When you were four summers old you went through a pha—"

Eric was tackled to the ground before he could finish his sentence. Eira now sat on his chest, her small hands covering his mouth.

Sookie let out a gasp of shock, Bill on the other hand smirked, looking amused as he watched the large Viking be pinned to the ground by a being so much smaller than him and decked out in pink. What surprised him, however, was that Eric made no move to push Eira away. On the contrary, Eric looked amused as he lay there, looking up at his sister with sparkling eyes.

"We shall never speak of that!" hissed Eira. "Need I remind you that I was not the only one who went through a… a _weird_ stage in life, hmm?"

To that, Eric's face changed. Gone was the mirth from his eyes as he looked up at his sibling with murderous intent. In a flash, Eric flipped Eira over, his hands on her shoulders as he held her down, glaring at her.

"This conversation never happened," said Eric slowly, moving away from her and standing up.

"Yes, it never happened," hissed Eira, but the damage was already done.

Memories flashed through the Northman's heads, taking them back to when they were human.

Eira could see Eric clearly in her mind's eye, his face bright with a smile and his hair sticking to his skin with sweat after a long day spent out, tending to the sheep. There were feathers braided into his long locks, along with dreadlocks that were caked with mud, and even some shiny metal beads. It had been some fad at the time, and Eric had gotten into it to catch the eyes of the many girls that lived in their village. The image was enough to make Eira stifle a laugh.

Eric on the other hand had the mental image of a 4-year-old Eira, running around naked as their servant girls chased her around with blankets, trying to cover her. Eira had always claimed that her wool dresses were itchy, and so any chance she got, she went without.

"Well, I think I've gotten my fill of entertainment for one night," said Sookie, wanting to break the awkward silence that had settled over them.

"We were far worse when we were alive," said Eira with a small smile. She then turned to look at Eric as she said, "Remember when I shot you with an arrow… in the **_ass_**?"

"Remember when I nearly drowned you in the ocean for that," asked Eric, his eyes narrowed.

"Why yes, I remember that. But you must also remember how _pappa_ threatened to beat you if you did that again, and how _mamma_—" but Eira was interrupted as the tell-tale _swoosh_ sound of a vampire's arrival entered her ears, and Pam and Chow appeared in the center of Fangtasia moments after, looking worse for wear.

Pam did not look happy, not one bit. Her pink outfit was ruined with leaves and twigs, and her pumps were caked in mud and bits of grass. There was even mud on her legs and some smudged on her face, ruining her once picture-perfect makeup. Chow on the other hand only looked slightly miffed.

"The area has been scanned," announced Pam as she placed her hands on her hips, sending an evil look Eric's way.

"Tracks were human," Chow went on to inform, picking twigs from his suit, "but the smell was distinctly animal."

"What kind?" asked Eira curiously, playing with a strand of her hair.

"A _filthy _one," hissed Pam, crossing her arms, "and I see that you've taken your hair out of your pigtails."

"I'm over 1,000 years old, Pam," said Eira with a sigh, "I'm a bit too old for pigtails, don't you think?"

"—we didn't recognize it," intercepted Chow, giving both Pam and Eira a look.

"How intriguing," mused Eric, not at all surprised with the outcome of Pam and Chow's search. "Send an alert through the appropriate channels. Find out what the neighbors know."

Chow and Pam turned to leave, but before either could disappear and go off to do what was asked of them, Eira said, "Pam, those were great pumps."

Pam whirled around and looked at Eira for a moment, her eyes scanning the female Northman from head to toe, before she nodded and smiled. "Yes, they were. If you stick around for a while maybe we can go shoe shopping, Lord knows I'll need some more after tonight."

"Okay," agreed Eira with a grin.

"Women," mumbled Eric with a roll of the eyes once Pam and Chow disappeared.

Eira shrugged, saying, "They were nice. Now they are all ruined and she will have to dispose of them. You can't wash those kinds of shoes, you know. Even if she decides to just scrub the mud off and all that, she'd risk damaging the leather and leaving scratches."

"Were you always this materialistic?" asked Eric sarcastically.

"Actually, no," said Eira, her mood suddenly changing. She was somber now as she whispered, "Godric would always get frustrated with me because I'd make a fuss when he'd want to spoil me."

She had spoken so softly, that even for a vampire, Eric had to strain his hearing, but he heard her, and he was sure that Bill and Sookie had not. There was pain riddled in Eira's voice, and her eyes suddenly got a faraway look—her lower lids beginning to turn pink as bloody tears gathered there.

"You need to learn how to dominate your emotions," said Eric softly, so that the others present in the room would not hear. "You act like a human."

"Godric would tell me the same thing, too," whispered Eira, "he'd say it was his favorite trait about me."

Eric suddenly felt uncomfortable, and was saved from saying anything to Eira as Bill spoke up, saying, "Eric, I want to thank you for your hospitality, and for saving Sookie's life."

Eira noticed a sudden light sparkle in Eric's eyes as he looked at Sookie, Bill, and then at her. He was thinking, and she could nearly see the cogs turning in his head.

"I'm sure there is a way she can repay me," said Eric after a moment, looking at Sookie briefly before his eyes landed on Eira once more.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" asked Sookie skeptically.

Eric merely ignored her as he told Eira, "It is almost dawn. I want you to go back to the nest; Pam will be with you when you wake if you need anything."

"And you?"

"I'll stay here, I have a coffin in the basement," said Eric, looking away from her and to Bill, "Mr. Compton, Ms. Stackhouse, and I, have some things to talk about, but of course we'll take care of that tomorrow night, after we're all well rested. For now, I've papers to review that will take until dawn."

"I'm not going to like this," Sookie mumbled, crossing her arms.

"When has your opinion ever mattered," asked Eric with a cheeky grin, earning glares from both Sookie and Bill.

"I can't believe you're related to that," said Sookie, looking at Eira.

Eira smiled. "He's actually not as pompous as before."

Sookie looked at Eira with disbelief. "You mean to tell me he was worse?!"

With a nod, Eira said, "_Far_ worse."


	9. Images of the Past

**Scandinavia | 883 AD—884 AD **

On the outskirts of a thick forest, a little ways away from a calm seaside, there was a village of Vikings. The sound of laughter and merriment floated along with the summer breeze, getting lost in the night sky, weaving in and out of stars. This evening was special, and not one person could be found in their little wooden houses, for all were gathered inside the longhouse, celebrating the coming of age of their chieftain's only son, Erik.

However, one person was missing the festivities. Little Eira could care less about her older brother's rite of passage. Erik had been pushing her away all night, making her play with the younger children because he was "too old" for her "childish games". It upset Eira that her brother was ignoring her because he was suddenly considered a man—he was only a couple of summers older than her, so she did not understand why he suddenly had an air of "_I'm better than you_". Eira supposed that it had to do with the fact that someday, Erik would be king… but that did not give him the right to overlook her as if she were a common servant girl.

As it were, the longhouse was stuffy, and Eira did not like being in a crowded room. She slipped out when her personal servant girls were busy batting their eyelashes at two very promising bachelors, and made her way down to the seaside. She wouldn't be missed, at least not for a couple of hours.

A full moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the ground Eira walked on, and making the water sparkle and shimmer as small waves lapped at the shore. Eira loved playing by the seaside, and Erik was always by her side too, helping her collect seashells and shiny stones and trying to scare her with epic tales of sea monsters, but she supposed he'd be too busy for that now, with him being a _man_ and all.

With a sigh, little Eira took a seat on a driftwood log, staring out at the dark sea before her. The week before her mother had begun teaching her how to braid her hair, and so Eira began plaiting her long blonde locks, trying to remember what her mother had told her so that she wouldn't turn her hair into a knotted rat's nest.

The sound of sand crunching underneath boots made Eira still for a moment—had Liv and Helga finally realized that their charge was missing from the longhouse? Eira hoped not. She did not want to go back to the celebration; she was content with braiding her hair by the seaside, alone, with only her daydreams for company. Just the thought of being dragged back into the longhouse, with all that noise, and the sweaty bodies of merry villagers drinking mead and eating… Eira shivered. She did not want that; Eira rather liked the fresh air and peaceful solitude the seaside offered her.

All was silent for a moment, the shuffling feet over the sand stilled, and Eira slowly turned her head to the side, shifting in her seat to get a glimpse over her shoulder—there was no one there. Eira was confused for a moment, she was sure that she'd heard footsteps behind her, but maybe it was just a trick of the wind, and so she didn't pay it any more attention than it needed. With a shrug and a careless "humph", Eira turned back in her seat to stare out at the sea, but instead of water, she found herself staring into a pair of bright, blue-green eyes.

A boy was crouching in front of Eira, looking at her with a quizzical expression in his clear eyes. He was older than she was, by maybe 7 or 10 years, with the oddest markings on his exposed, upper body. Eira had never seen anything like them—they were black, like coal drawings etched into his pale skin, one wrapping around his collarbone, and another around his upper arm. Eira stared at them, mesmerized—she thought they were pretty.

Without so much as a thought for her safety, Eira reached out a hand and touched the black markings on the boy's arm, tracing the patterns with the tip of her index finger. Her eyes widened in awe, and her mouth parted—his skin was smooth and deathly cold. The boy stiffened for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, an unsure look flashing across his orbs. He took in a deep breath as Eira continued her exploration of his skin, and relaxed once he noticed the innocent wonder glittering in Eira's blue eyes.

"What are they," asked Eira after she was done tracing the boy's skin, bringing her hand back and resting it on her lap.

"Tattoos," the boy said simply, giving her a crooked smile.

"Tat…oohs," said Eira slowly, trying out this new word.

The boy smiled, nodding his head.

"I want a tat-oohs," thought Eira aloud, "they will make me pretty."

The boy chuckled, a small smile settling on his lips as he stared down at Eira.

"What is your name," he asked, lifting up a hand to cup Eira's cheek—Eira did not even flinch.

"Eira," said Eira with a soft smile, "but mother and father and brother call me Eir."

"Then I will call you Eir," decided the boy, letting his hand drop from Eira's skin. He rose to his full height, and then promptly took a seat beside Eira on the driftwood.

"And what is _your_ name," asked Eira, turning her head to stare at the boy curiously.

"Godric," he said simply.

"Godric," repeated Eira. "I like it."

"And I like Eir," he said with a grin.

Eira laughed, a large grin settling on her lips.

The two sat side by side on the driftwood log, a comfortable silence settling over them. Eira resumed braiding her hair, and Godric watched her.

Suddenly he asked, "Why are you not afraid of me?"

_Should I be_, thought Eira, pushing her hair over her shoulder. She turned to look at Godric, her eyes locking with his. The look in his eyes was a look Eira had seen in her father's eyes, an old look, filled with the intellect of a man who had seen it all. There was also a sharp edge in his eyes, a subtle narrowing of his lids that Eira could tell—despite her young age—belonged to a killer, a hunter. However, there was also softness deep within his blue-green depths, something he guarded viciously, and it was enough to make Eira smile.

Godric would not hurt her; whether he intended to do something to her at the beginning of their meeting, that gentle gaze that creeped underneath the intellect and danger, told her that he did not intend to cause her pain anymore.

"Because I know you mean me no harm," answered Eira, sure of herself.

Godric smirked. "You are naïve."

Eira shrugged.

"You will make a wonderful pet," said Godric pensively, reaching out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Eira's ear.

"I am not a dog," said Eira with a crinkle of her nose.

"I did not mean it like that," said Godric with a small, secretive smile.

"Then how?" asked Eira curiously.

Godric simply smiled, saying softly, "You will understand once you're older, for now—wake up, my pet..."

* * *

Eira woke up with a start.

For a moment, she was confused; she did not know where she was, who she was, or what was going on—her mind was a blank slate, and not a care or worry weighed her down, but after sitting up and scanning her surroundings, it all came back to her. With a sigh, she scooted up in bed until her back met with the wooden headboard, brought her legs up, and hugged them tightly, resting her chin on the top of her knees. She blinked owlishly in the dark, her face devoid of emotion as she thought back on her dream—or more like memory.

Eira had been so young then—probably six years old, more or less. She hadn't known the danger she was in that night, her childlike mind had only been preoccupied with Godric's tattoos, and the funny way he talked. He was kind to her, made her laugh, and entertained her with stories of armies and life outside of the little Viking village. Eira hadn't known he was a vampire then—she hadn't known what a vampire was to begin with, but it was a term that she grew to know years later.

Never had she thought that the strange boy she'd met by the seaside would come to mean so much to her years later. Godric had been her friend, her love, her protector—he was everything to her. Eira prayed that this whole ordeal ended quickly, that she'd get him back safe and sound, because she didn't know if she'd be able to go on another moment without him in her life. Her world was falling apart.

A knock brought Eira out of her thoughts, followed by the sound of a key being inserted into a lock. The door opened moments after, and in strode Pam, flicking the lights on as she went. As always, Pam was dressed impeccably in a shimmering, designer dress, her blonde hair curled around her face and shoulders, and her makeup done with the expertise of a professional. Her usual sarcastic smirk was plastered on her lips, but one look at Eira made her lips thin out into a straight line.

"Princess," asked Pam as she walked over to Eira, sitting on the edge of the bed, "you should be dressed by now."

"I was just…" trailed off Eira, sighing and running a hand through her hair, "I, uh… I was um, thinking about something."

Pam rolled her eyes—Eira had her guard down, which made her easy to read. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Eira nodded.

A scowl settled on Pam's lips. Eira was at the mercy of her emotions, and Pam did not like that. She sighed, and hesitantly she placed a hand on the back of Eira's head, her thumb caressing just behind Eira's ear.

"I'm no good at this shit," admitted Pam, narrowing her eyes at the small smile creeping up on Eira's lips, "but… everything will be okay."

"Thank you," said Eira softly, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of Pam's caress. She could see that this was making Pam uncomfortable, but Eric's progeny was making an effort to be comforting, and Eira appreciated that.

For a moment, Eira allowed herself to pretend that she was human, that her mother was comforting her, that they were wrapped in fur throws, sitting in front of a roaring fire, enjoying each other's company after a long day of working out in the fields. Eric would be lying on his stomach by their feet, talking about nothing, and making Eira and their mother laugh with the stories of his and his friend's antics. God, how Eira missed being human, when times were simpler, when all she had to worry about was feeding the chickens, and learning how to be the best shield maiden she could be.

"C'mon Princess," said Pam after a moment, drawing her hand back, and rising from her seat, "go take a bath while I set out some clothes for you, but make it fast, we're needed elsewhere."

"Fangtasia?" asked Eira as she got out of bed, watching Pam make her way over to the armoire.

"Where else?" scoffed Pam, making a face as she pulled out a pair of jeans with ripped knees. "What the hell is this?" she demanded, waving the offending article of clothing in front of Eira's face.

Eira grinned, shrugging her shoulders.

"I'm burning these," said Pam seriously, balling up the jeans and throwing them in the back of the armoire, "I hope they don't hold memories."

"You're good," assured Eira. "Those were actually a really nice pair of Fendi—"

"_Fendi_," hissed Pam, "what the hell did you do to them? Oh, these poor jeans…"

Eira chuckled nervously, running a hand through her hair. "Do you really want to know?"

Pam was silent for a moment, staring at Eira with narrowed eyes, before a lecherous smirk pulled at her lips. "You fucked in them, didn't you?"

It Eira could blush, her face would be as red as a tomato.

"I'm gonna go take that bath now…"

"Oh no you don't," said Pam with a grin, darting to the bathroom door and preventing Eira from escaping. "I want details. Give me something scandalous."

"Pam—"

"Details, Princess," prompted Pam.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" asked Eira with a sigh.

"Nope," smirked Pam, "those were four hundred dollar jeans—I want to know what happened, so start talking or else we'll be here all night. Eric wouldn't like that, I assure you. We can't keep him waiting."

"Do you promise not to say anything once I tell you?" asked Eira with a defeated sigh, knowing that if she didn't talk, Pam wouldn't let this go.

"If you give me something juicy," said Pam teasingly.

"We were in the woods—"

"Doggy style?"

"—Pam!"

"Well?"

"…."

"I'm waiting."

"… Yes."

Pam smirked, sidestepping Eira. "You may enter."

Eira rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long night.


	10. Unknown Sender

In the passenger seat of Pam's pink Corvette, Eira sat stiffly, staring down at her phone with murderous intent. Five words kept flashing across her vision, five words that shattered the good mood that Pam had put her in with her silly nonsense talk about sex and cosmetics.

Eira had received a text only moments ago, from an unknown number that she had tried to call back—but it went straight to the operator. Never had she thought that a simple text message could make her whole world fall apart.

**Received at:** 7:35PM  
**Text Message:** The Fellowship of the Sun

_What could they mean by sending me this_, thought Eira with a frown. It was bothering her not knowing who, or why they would sent her the name of the biggest anti-vampire church in Texas, but Eira had already begun to assume the worst. Her nightmares came back to her in an instant—Godric being drained, staked, chained in silver, meeting the sun…

_I'm overreacting—it could mean nothing_, Eira tried to reason, but she knew she was only kidding herself. The Fellowship of the Sun was filled with people who wanted nothing more than to rid the earth of vampires, to have them seen as monsters, eliminated and gone for being unnatural and for going against God's will. If they were the ones to have Godric, Eira didn't know what she'd do, but she wanted blood. She wanted anyone involved with her beloveds kidnapping to feel a pain far worse than the one she was experiencing… but at the same time Eira only wanted to take Godric far away from Texas and live a peaceful existence.

Pulling up to Fangtasia, Pam set her pink Corvette in park, shutting off the engine and clicking the unlock button on her armrest. Eira moved her arm to open her door, but Pam quickly placed a hand on her knee, stopping her from moving.

"Not so fast," hissed Pam.

"What?" asked Eira, giving Pam an innocent look.

Pam quirked up an eyebrow in disbelief, saying, "Are you serious? You've been fucking around with your phone for the past ten minutes—I bet you don't even know what the fuck I was talking about five seconds ago. Hand it over, Princess."

"Why?" asked Eira, annoyed with Pam's hovering. Eira was starting to miss the cold-hearted Pam that didn't like her in the beginning. This… nearly mothering side of Pam was something that scared Eira. She had only known her for a couple of days, but she knew that acting this way was out of character for Pam.

Pam narrowed her eyes at Eira, squeezing her knee to the point of almost breaking it—but of course, Eira didn't feel so much as a pinch.

"I want to know what's gotten your panties in a twist," said Pam darkly, an underlying threat in her words, "now give me the fucking phone."

Eira glared at Pam, but handed the phone over nonetheless, the screen displaying her message inbox.

"It's the latest message, from the unknown number."

Pam nodded, tapping her thumb on the screen, narrowing her eyes as the text message flashed up at her. She quickly pressed the callback button, raising the phone up to her ear, but the number only rang once before the monotone voice of an operator informed her that the number was no longer in service.

"You've got to be fucking with me," muttered Pam as she handed Eira the phone. "Eric has connections, connections which have mentioned that fucking church's involvement. This narrows down the search."

"So they have Godric," asked Eira hesitantly.

"Looks like it," sighed Pam, frowning as she saw Eira's eyes begin to turn pink. "Oh, c'mon, don't cry."

"Eric's inside, right?" asked Eira simply, blinking back tears. She needed her brother right now.

"He is."

Eira nodded laboriously, and then in the blink of an eye, she was out of Pam's car and inside Fangtasia, walking onto a scene that only further upset her. On the deserted dance floor stood Eric and Sookie—Bill was off to the side, watching the interaction between his human and the Viking closely, ready to jump between them if things got out of hand.

After her injury, Sookie had spent the day at Fangtasia, because moving her before her wounds were completely healed was not recommended for her recovery. Nevertheless, it appeared that the human had healed quickly, and had taken to snooping around the nightclub. She was screaming at Eric, demanding that he free the human in the basement—apparently, the black man's name was Lafayette, and he was a close friend of Sookie's.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for what you've done to him!" screamed Sookie, lifting up her hand so fast that no one really registered the sound of skin meeting skin at first, but there was no mistaking the sound of a hand meeting a cheek.

Eira would have none of that.

In the span of two seconds, Eira had Sookie pinned underneath her, hand on throat, kicking and screaming. Eira's fangs were out, and she growled loudly as she stared down at Sookie with unabashed hatred shining in her blue eyes.

"How dare you hit my brother!" yelled Eira, eyes narrowed into slits, "after what he did for you—he saved your life, you ungrateful bitch!"

Sookie tried to speak, to make Eira see that what her brother was doing wasn't right, but the hand on her throat only squeeze tighter, making her cry out in pain.

"Sookie!" exclaimed Bill, enraged, a murderous look in his eyes as he darted towards Eira, ready to rip her head off her shoulders… but he never touched her.

Before Bill had even taken a step, Eira lifted her arm, moving it in a sweeping motion to the right, which sent Bill flying in that general direction. The dark haired vampire landed somewhere behind the bar, broken liquor bottles dotting the floor around his body.

"Bill," gasped Sookie, looking up at Eira with fear. Gone were her intentions of befriending the little blonde vampire—Eira was just like Eric, and Sookie wanted to have nothing to do with that.

"Oh, this is fucking great," said Pam as she entered the room, making Eira smirk. "Eric, I'm in love with your sister. Can we keep her?"

"We most certainly _will_ keep her around," said Eric with a grin, "especially after that beautiful display of power. You are just full of surprises, aren't you, Eir?"

"No comment," said Eira simply, hissing at Sookie before she released her.

Sookie was quick to move, crawling away from Eira with wide eyes, standing and practically running behind the bar, where Bill was raising to his feet, brushing off broken glass from his shoulders.

Eric chuckled, before his face lost all of its amusement, calmly he told Eir, "I want an answer."

"And I'll give you one when—"

"Right now," snapped Eric.

Eira rolled her eyes, but nonetheless walked up to her brother, crooking her index finger at him so that he'd bend down. Once his ear was within reached, Eira whispered lowly so that only he could hear, "Along with the gift of flight, which yes, I know that you have—I can move things without touching them... you can fill Pam in once we're alone."

Eric nodded, straightening up to his full height. He wrapped an arm around Eira's shoulders, pulling her up against his side. This was most certainly turning out to be an interesting night for him.

"Well," Eric said slowly, a secretive smirk crossing his lips, "that must come in handy."

"You're going to use me, aren't you?" deadpanned Eira, sighing.

"Now Eir," said Eric in a condescending tone, "I would never do such a thing. I respect you too much."

"I highly doubt that," mumbled Eira.

Eric simply shrugged.

"Now," he began, looking over to Sookie and Bill, "what were we talking about before Eir made her grand entrance?"

Sookie was trembling beside Bill, her hand gripping his tightly. Taking in a deep breath and putting on a brave front, she said, "Let Lafayette go."

"That is not going to happen," said Eric unceremoniously. "What Lafayette did is a grave offense, and you should be thankful that he's in my hands. Others would have done far worse to him—you should have seen the other guy."

"Go to hell," spat Sookie, glaring at Eric, and briefly looking over to Eira.

"Sookie, enough," said Bill warningly, glancing at Eira warily.

Sookie snapped.

"That's not nearly enough!" she yelled, the events from a moment prior disappearing from her mind as she screamed, "They've tortured him and bitten him and shot him and kept him down there in his own filth for weeks!"

"If it's any consolation," spoke up Eira with a smirk, "I never fed from him."

Sookie merely glared at her.

"You're going to let him go right now, or I swear I'm going to the police," threatened Sookie, causing Eric's eyes to narrow, and Eira to scoff.

"I don't respond well to threats," said Eric darkly, putting on a fake smile as he continued with, "but perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement."

"Besides," Eira added, "unless they have connections with the Authority—which they don't, mind you—we don't fall under the jurisdictions of your _police_. If anything, in this area, Eric _is_ the police."

"Gotta love vampire politics," said Pam with a smirk.

A fleeting look of helplessness flashed across Sookie's eyes, but she masked it well with a glare.

"So," interjected Eric with a smug smirk, "let's take this party into my office, there are much things to discuss."

No one moved for the first few seconds, but then one by one, the group started walking through the staff door and down the hall to Eric's office. Pam was the first to step inside the room, followed by Bill, and then Sookie. As Eira was about to make her way inside, Eric stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back a few steps. This gained curious looks from Pam, Bill, and Sookie, but Eric nodded his head towards Pam, who gave him a nod back before shutting the door, leaving the two siblings outside.

"Come," was all Eric said as he led Eira down the hall and through a door that led to the alley behind Fangtasia.

"What?" asked Eira, leaning against the concrete wall and crossing her arms.

"I have a plan," said Eric, getting straight to the point, "when you return to Dallas, along with me, Sookie will also come—"

"Why?" asked Eira skeptically. "After what I did to her, do you really think she'd agree to that?"

"She's a telepath, she'll be useful. We also have her… _friend_, to dangle in front of her."

Eira could see the logic to Eric's little plan. Sookie could read minds and that was going to be useful, now more than ever with the knowledge of the Fellowship of the Sun being involved.

"I got a text," she decided to tell Eric, "it was from an unknown number, one I tried calling back but it wasn't working anymore. It said: _The Fellowship of the Sun_. Nothing more, nothing less—I don't know if it was a threat, or a warning, or a clue… I just… _fuck my life_. I want all of this to end already!"

"Well then, that explains the foul mood you were in," said Eric nonchalantly.

"Sookie slapping you set me off," said Eira, frowning.

"Look on the bright side," said Eric murderously, giving his sister a sadistic smile, "we have a target now."

"That we do, big brother."


	11. Pam's Girl

Ten thousand dollars, Lafayette's freedom, and Bill's company was all it took to get Sookie to agree to fly out to Dallas the following evening. The human was getting cocky, but she had spunk, and Eira had to commend her for that… all things considered.

Now with that out of the way, Eira had to deal with the fact that she was going back to Dallas that very same evening without so much as a whisper of information on Godric other than the morbidly vague text she received from an unknown sender. She had someone working on it of course, Eira was not going to ignore such a thing, but the longer she waited for her contact to trace the text message, the more she wanted to keep ignorant, scared of the outcome.

Once Eira got a name, it was going to be the end of whomever texted her, and with a name, she had the ability to virtually find out everything in regards to Godric if she played her cards right.

_But of course, if you kill everyone, then you're fucked_, a voice whispered in her mind, and Eira had to agree… however much it pained her. She couldn't just go off killing people, but then again she had been provoked—she had a reason to kill.

_Still, that doesn't justify killing someone_—Eira sighed. She was getting sick of her conscience telling her what was right and what was wrong. _Right and wrong are just words! They don't matter—what matters is what you do!_

Nevertheless, her conscience disagreed.

"Pam, will you be coming with us?" asked Eira from her seated position at the foot of her bed, watching as Pam packed up her wardrobe for her.

"As appealing as a vacation sounds right about now," said Pam over her shoulder, pausing for dramatic effect, "no."

"You have to run Fangtasia while Eric's away, right?"

"Exactly, Princess," replied Pam, walking over to the vanity to begin packing up Eira's minimal cosmetics, and random trinkets.

"Why can't Chow do it?"

At this, Pam paused in her work, turning to look at Eira and asking, "Why the sudden urge to be my girlfriend?"

Eira smiled bashfully, shrugging her shoulders as she said, "You've grown on me."

"I highly doubt that," deadpanned Pam, but the usual bored look in her eyes softened just the slightest at hearing Eira's words. They were said with such sincerity that there was no doubt in Pam's mind about Eira's admission being true.

It almost made her smile.

_**Almost.**_

Pam was going to miss Eira greatly, but she'd never admit it—she had the image of a coldhearted bitch to keep up, after all. If she allowed herself to be soft, she'd get no respect, and she couldn't allow for the wrong people to see that she had a weakness. Eric had taught her well to keep her emotions in check, lest someone decides to use them against her, and that would not do.

"I'm nearly done here. How about you go up to your car and I'll bring your bags up in two wags of a lamb's tail."

Eira made a face, saying, "I've always hated that saying," before she disappeared from the room and reappeared outside, arriving in front of her car. She could have sworn that she had heard Pam laughing as she left the bedroom… _nah_.

Eric was leaning casually against the hood of Eira's car, waiting for her. Begrudgingly he stood up straight, walking up to his sister and taking her hands in his. No words were said as he simply stared down at her, committing her face to memory. They were only going to be separated for a few short hours, but it would feel like an eternity for Eric. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her, relearning all her little quirks, listening to her and Pam bicker about which shoes went with what dress, or listening to her sing quietly to herself in Danish when she thought no one was paying her any attention. He wanted to keep Eira by his side, to be able to talk casually with her about nothing and everything, to reminisce about their human lives, to spend the next 1,000 years getting to know her all over again.

Eric never realize how much it hurt to have his sister ripped away from him—he was not going to take her for granted anymore, not in this lifetime. He'd made his mistakes as a human, but now he had all of eternity to make it up to Eira—to be the brother he never was.

"This is yours," he said quietly, letting go of Eira's hands, and handing her a plane ticket he'd had in his back pocket. "I've already programmed your GPS to guide you straight to the airport. Once there, I've arranged for someone to drive your car back to Dallas. It should arrive in the morning, ready for you to use tomorrow evening."

"How long will it take me to get to Dallas?" asked Eira, looking down at the first class plane ticket in her hand. "Oh, and will I need a travel-coffin? I hate those things."

"No travel-coffin needed," said Eric with a chuckle. "You'll get there in an hour or so."

"Beats the five hours I wasted driving up here," shrugged Eira. "You know, I thought about just flying my way, it would only take me about thirty minutes, but flying with a duffle bag didn't really seem all that appealing to me. Then I thought about running—an hour or two tops, but again, running with a duffle bag just kind of killed it for me. Driving seemed like that better option, because it would give me some time to think, however, losing five hours in a drive just—"

"You're rambling," said Eric, placing a hand on Eira's cheek tenderly.

Eira smiled ruefully, saying softly, "I just don't want to leave yet. Why can't you come with me? Why wait until tomorrow?"

Eric sighed, not liking the puppy-dog eyes Eira was giving him. "I have a couple of loose ends to tie up here that will take the better part of the evening, but then I'll drop in before you know it."

"You have to make sure Lafayette doesn't do anything stupid, huh?" asked Eira with a knowing smirk.

"Among other things," said Eric vaguely.

"Well, can I at least take Pam? You can make Chow run Fangtasia."

Eric furrowed his eyebrows in question, asking, "Why the sudden urge to be close to Pam? I had thought that you didn't like her."

"I **do** like Pam, it's just… I don't want to leave," admitted Eira, sounding desperate as she said, "If I leave, then everything becomes real, and I can't stand the thought of going home and not having Godric there waiting for me. I just… I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm scared, Eric. If the Fellowship of the Sun really has him then—"

Eric immediately pulled his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly and kissing her temple. He did not know what words to tell her to offer her comfort, so he simply held her, pressing her up against his chest and letting his body silently tell her that he was there for her—that he'd _always_ be there for her should she ever need him.

Sighing, Eira leaned into her brother's embrace, clinging to him desperately. Softly she said, "I love you, Eric."

"And I love you, Eir," admitted Eric quietly, burying his face in Eira's hair.

The Northmans stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a moment longer before separating. Eira looked up at Eric with teary eyes, and Eric looked down at Eira with a small smile.

"I don't like it when you cry," Eric told his sister sincerely, before smirking mischievously and saying, "Pam would kill you if you got blood on your dress."

"Yes, I would," said the voice of Pam as she appeared before the Northmans, carrying Eira's things.

"Don't worry, I won't cry," promised Eira, laughing softly as she turned to face Pam.

Pam nodded, setting down Eira's things before she walked up to Eira, standing so close that Eira could see all the little details that went into Pam's makeup. Pam stared at Eira for a moment, her face devoid of emotions, before she quickly leaned down and placed a kiss on Eira's cheek, hugging her tightly before disappearing back into the house.

It was Pam's own way of saying goodbye, and it left Eira stunned.

"She likes you," mused Eric with a knowing smile.

"How do you figure?" asked Eira inquisitively, blinking owlishly.

"You remind her of one of her girls," said Eric simply.

"Her girls?" repeated Eira curiously.

"In her human life, Pam used to be the owner of a brothel," Eric told Eira, "she cared greatly for her girls, took care of them, gave them everything—was their mother, in a sense. Your presence these past few days reminded her of what it felt liking having someone depend on her again."

Eira said nothing, however, a small smile settled on her lips, and a warm feeling settled deep within her chest.

She was Pam's girl it seemed, and she was fine with that.


	12. Mother, Daughter, Sister

_Anubis Airways_ was an experience for Eira. She was waited on, pampered, and even though having people fawn over her made her feel uncomfortable, Eira didn't push them away. They gave her human blood rather than TruBlood (regardless, she refused to drink anything, for she was not hungry), and they even offered her magazines and a laptop if she felt like toying around with the internet. Her flight attendants were very much attentive of her needs in spite of the short flight, and Eira made a note of tipping them greatly once they landed in Dallas.

"Only the best for my little sister," Eric had told Eira before she left his nest.

Eira was very much relaxed as she lost herself in the softly playing music coming out of the overhead speakers. She was nearly boneless as she lounged in her seat, humming along with the Danish lyrics currently being sung. She knew that this flight would be her only moment to catch her breath before landing in Dallas, so she was going to milk it for all its worth.

Nevertheless, in the world of Eira Northman, nothing ever went as it should.

A flight attendant came into Eira's view, holding up a cordless phone.

"It's for you."

Taking the phone and waiting until the flight attendant was out of sight, Eira pressed it up against her ear, listening. No one talked at first, there wasn't even the sound of breathing—it was as if no one was on the other end of the line, but then Eira heard footsteps, and a very unexpected British accent asking, "Eira, you there?"

"Nora?" asked Eira in disbelief, instantly recognizing the voice of her sister.

Nora Gainesborough was Godric's third progeny, which in turn made her sister to both Eric and Eira in the vampire community. She was turned some 600 years ago, off the shores of England, and for certain periods, was made Eira's companion.

Eric and Godric were nearly inseparable, but they did have their moments when they would each go off on their own. During those times, Eira and Godric would reunite, aware that when Eric sought Godric out, Eira would have to disappear. In those instances, it was when Nora would come along and keep her company.

Godric had chosen to turn Nora for two reasons, one: because he saw that her political genius would make her useful, and two: because he wanted Eira to have company when he could not be with her. Nora's turning proved fruitful—she was an excellent companion, very attentive of Eira, and she was now a Chancellor for the Vampire Authority.

"Is it true," asked Nora, her voice soft and hesitant, "has Godric really been taken?"

"Yes," said Eira with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. It was only a matter of time before Nora called her, Eira supposed.

"I need to know everything," said Nora quickly, her voice turning professional. "When was he taken?"

"How did you even find out?" asked Eira instead. "I didn't want this to be made public. No one was supposed to know except for those involved. I haven't even informed the higher-ups about this. Isabel and I agreed that it would be best to keep this under wraps—and how did you even find me? I haven't seen you since the 40's—and I'm on a plane!"

"Being a member of the Authority has its perks," said Nora simply.

"Nora," hissed Eira impatiently.

"Alright, fine," sighed Nora, and Eira was sure she was rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. "I received—well, call it a notice. It said that a vampire in the Dallas area had gone missing. I made some calls, checked some logs… well, you get the picture—also, Mina let me know about a certain text you asked her to track, and then I just kind of threatened her if she didn't tell me everything she knew."

"Nora," Eira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I hate you."

"Sticks and stones, love," said Nora flippantly. "And by the way, I've got Mina right here if you want to talk to her, she's done with tracking that phone number for you."

"Give her the phone."

"Not until you tell me all that you know in regards to our maker," said Nora doggedly.

Sighing, Eira said, "He was taken about four weeks ago. I don't know why he was taken, but the Fellowship of the Sun have something to do with it. I'm sure Mina filled you in on that note."

"She did," replied Nora with a sigh. "Do you have any idea how many of our vampires have gone missing because of that church's involvement?"

"I don't even want to think about that," said Eira softly. "I know what they like to do to us and just the thought of what Godric might be going through—"

"Eira, stop it," said Nora gently. "I didn't even stop to think how you were taking this—how are you?"

"I've been better," admitted Eira, a soft chuckle leaving her lips as she said, "Eric's been helpful."

"Eric?" asked Nora in disbelief. "You've gotten in contact with him?"

"After approximately 1,000 years, yes," said Eira, allowing herself a small smile. "I've spent the last few nights with him, in Louisiana."

"Tell me, how did that little reunion go?" asked Nora, the hint of a smile in her voice.

"He was shocked, and then nosy, asking me all these questions about how it's possible that I still exist—_you know_."

"Questions which you did not answer, of course," said Nora, sure of herself.

"You know me so well."

"Not really," admitted Nora. "I still don't understand why you didn't come out to him sooner. Why did you feel the need to hide yourself all these years?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue anymore—it's been so long that I've forgotten," admitted Eira. "At first I didn't want him to see me. I feared his reaction to me being made a vampire; I thought he'd kill me, proclaiming I was a demon or a ghost, so I kept my distance. Then he was made a vampire and I knew he couldn't do anything about me being one too, but then I feared his reaction to Godric turning me, so I kept my distance, not wanting them to get into a fight because of me. After that, well, I just kept away because Eric needed Godric more than I did. You know how shitty our chance of survival away from our maker is when we're recently turned. I already knew what there was to know about being a vampire, and I didn't want Eric getting himself killed, so Godric and I came to a sort of agreement: he'd keep Eric out of trouble, and I'd keep myself hidden to not _cause_ any trouble."

"You make no fucking sense," said Nora, "forget I even asked."

"But it's the truth," chuckled Eira. "I wonder how Eric will react once I tell him my reasoning for keeping myself in the shadows."

"I wonder how he'll react when you tell him _everything_," said Nora secretively. "Oh, and imagine how he'll get when he knows about me knowing about you—keep me posted, yeah? That's an argument I want to witness!"

"Of course—can I speak to Mina now? I can almost _**feel**_ her getting impatient," said Eira with a small smile.

"Right, maker and progeny bond and all that," said Nora flippantly, but then, very seriously, she said, "Eira, I'll do my best to help you from here. Know that you have the Authority's protection should anything happen."

"Thank you, Nora," said Eira sincerely.

"Anything for you, sister—now, talk to your daughter, she's about to rip my head off."

Eira chuckled, and patiently waited until a soft voice came through the line, accented with a light, Italian accent, saying, "I have missed you, Eira."

"And I have missed you too, my Mina."

Romina Europesa Valeria Grazia was Eira's first and only progeny. She was a beautiful, tall, statuesque Italian woman, with coffee colored hair, and sea-green eyes. Eira had found her 400 years ago, in Verona, Italy, wandering the streets at night, bleeding and broken. Her husband had raped her, beaten her down to the point of death, and then let his friends have their way with her, claiming that she was a bad wife and needed to be taught a lesson. Eira felt a twinge of pity for the Italian woman, and so she had approached her, asked her if she wanted to live, and Romina had said yes.

Romina's turning proved to be an excellent decision as the years passed. She was now a Chancellor for the Vampire Authority, her Chancellorship having been sponsored by Nora, and head of the Authority's _I.T. Department_, being their go-to technical analyst.

There was also something special about her, something that no one other than Nora, Godric, and Eira knew about—Romina could walk in the sunlight, something that no other vampire could do. At first Eira had been scared—a vampire not burning in the sun was unheard of; she had thought that Romina was bewitched, but then she saw that this was a new kind of power that no one else had—no one else but Eira, because Romina was _**her**_ progeny, and Eira couldn't have been any prouder.

Romina's ability to walk in the sun had to do with her blood from when she was human. While draining her, Eira had tasted something different about it. There was a lightness to it, warmth that felt like the sun running down Eira's throat. When Eira talked to Godric about it, he had told her that she had made a very smart decision when turning Romina.

The Italian woman had been part of the fae-fairy family when she was human, and that meant that—

"HOLY SHIT," exclaimed Eira, her eyes going wide.

"Eira?" asked Romina curiously, her voice tinged with concern.

"What do you know about a woman named Sookie Stackhouse?"

* * *

**AN:** And now we know the identities of those two vampires Eira has in the Authority...

What are your thoughts on Romina?


	13. Home

They say that home is where the heart is, but a home did not necessarily have to be a building.

For Eira, home was a 2,000-year-old vampire in the body of a 16-year-old boy. Home was his crooked smile, his blue-green eyes, the way he held her in his arms. He was safe, comfortable—all things a home was supposed to be… and most important of all—he loved her.

Dallas, Texas—it used to be home. Dallas was where _he_ was… but not anymore. Dallas was not home. It was not safe, nor was it comfortable anymore—it was empty, it lacked the protective warmth of a tight embrace… It made Eira want to grab the nearest person she could get her hands on and break some bones.

Eira had tried to kill herself on the first few days of Godric's disappearance. Her mind had been in such a haze of despair and helplessness that all rational thoughts left her. She hadn't thought that there was a chance that he was still alive, because surely she would have felt the stabbing pain of his death—she'd only wanted to end the pain.

Without Godric, there was no meaning—Eira's life lacked its purpose. It always killed her being apart from him when he'd go off on "business" trips… just the thought of him not returning to her was enough to make her break the nearest table and try to stab herself with one of its legs. She had stopped herself though, once having caught sight of her twinkling engagement ring. She could not leave if there was even the slightest chance that he would come back…

"I've decided to take a car—I want the nest cleared out by the time I arrive," said Eira into her cell phone, her voice authoritative.

"Consider it done," said the voice of Isabel.

"Any new developments that I should know about?" asked Eira flippantly, but her eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at the back of the driver's seat.

Isabel hesitated, before saying delicately, "There _is _something… but it is not appropriate to say over the pho—"

Eira hung up.

If Isabel was not going to tell Eira anything, then she saw no need to keep up with the conversation.

Urging her driver to hurry up (and promising him extra pay should he reach the nest in the next 10 minutes), Eira let out a heavy sigh before leaning back in her seat, lolling her head to the side to look out of the window lazily. The city lights splashed in a blur of movement across the window as the car made its way from the airport to the nest, pushing a couple of miles past the speed limit to get there in the amount of time that Eira desired.

Eira was being uncouth, and she knew it, but she was way beyond the point of caring anymore. Gone was the courteous vampire that everyone knew her as, and in her place was a vampire desperate for her mate. She wanted this mess to be over; she wanted things to go back to their normal rhythm. Her instincts were beginning to take over, and the urge to kill something was becoming strong.

Eira hoped that it would all end soon, that they would find Godric quickly—a few more days without him could result in disaster should she allow her rage to consume her, and that was something that she wanted to avoid at all costs. Eira did not kill unless it was absolutely necessary, preferring to settle on threats and instilling fear to get her way… but if provoked she would spill blood freely, regardless of her belief that a life should only be taken if utterly needed.

Upon arrival at the nest, as expected, Isabel was already waiting outside for Eira. Isabel—tall and imposing, dressed in tight designer jeans and a costly silk blouse, greeted Eira with a warm hug and a small smile on her lightly tanned skin. Her black hair was held back in a tight ponytail at the top of her crown, and her almond shaped brown eyes looked down at Eira with sadness and a hint of apprehension as she ushered her superior into the nest.

Unlike Eric's nest, Godric's nest was contemporary—more glass and bricks, bold colors and modern furniture, with abstract pieces of art decorating the walls. It was two stories tall, with all the fixings to make it light proof, decorated by Isabel on Eira's instance, because if it were up to Eira, the nest would look like something out of a fairy tale, and it would not be a place where a 2,000 year old vampire could really be seen at.

The nest lay in the heart of Dallas, in a neighborhood with other very extravagant houses, but of course, there was always that certain allure that came with vampires, making the nest more eye-catching in comparison to its neighbors.

"The nestlings have left but we are not alone," observed Eira as she led the way down the main corridor, and into her private study. "Stan is somewhere on the property, I presume?"

"Yes—he's in Godric's study gathering some… _things_ that you need to see."

Eira did not like the foreboding tone that Isabel's voice had taken on, but she nodded nonetheless, choosing to say nothing as she made her way across the large, lavish room, taking a seat behind her mahogany desk and motioning with her hand for Isabel to sit on the chair across from her.

The two vampires remained silent, settling into their seats, before they were joined by a third.

Stan was a well-built vampire, with a painfully obvious southern front. He wore expensive snakeskin boots, and a pristine, white Stetson always covered his short, dark hair. He was a cowboy through and through, something common seeing as they resided in Texas, but the fact that he was a vampire as well always made Eira snicker for some reason. Tonight however, Eira did not poke fun at Stan's choice in style—she had other pressing matters that needed her upmost attention.

"I thought you'd be bringing back-up," said Stan as he took the empty seat besides Isabel, setting down on Eira's desk a stack of manila folders.

"My brother and another of our kind will be arriving tomorrow, along with a human—"

"A human?" asked Stan in disbelief, scowling in disgust. It was no secret how much he hated humans, but he was all talk and no action, and so no one ever worried that he'd step out of line and fulfill all the nasty comments he'd made about the living.

A close eye on him was always kept, nevertheless.

"Yes, a human," said Eira with an irritated sigh, rolling her eyes at Stan. "Her name is Sookie Stackhouse—she is special, and will be an asset to our cause."

"Special in what way?" asked Isabel curiously.

"She is not… exactly human," informed Eira carefully, her conversation with Romina in the back of her mind. "She is a telepath—she cannot read the thoughts of vampires, though. Eric did not go into detail about that, but he assured me that we vampires are safe from her wandering mind."

"She will be useful, then," agreed Stan begrudgingly.

"Yes, well," said Eira quickly, steering the conversation into the path she wanted it to go down, "it is time that you two begin to give me _names_. I've been kept in the dark long enou—"

"Eira—" began Isabel.

"Quiet," hissed Eira, glaring at Isabel with black eyes. "I know next to _nothing_ on what is happening. All I know is that Godric was taken from us—from **me**. I know not what reason there could be for someone to take him, nor do I even know why—"

"Eira," said Isabel loudly to gain Eira's attention, "it was wrong of us to keep you ignorant, I know that, but it was the only way to ensure that you would not do anything stupid."

"How is keeping me—"

"Ignorance is bliss," said Isabel simply, glancing at Stan before continuing with, "_Think_, Eira. Godric is over 2,000 years old. He is one of the most powerful vampires currently in existence. It would be impossible for someone to capture him unless he wanted—"

It took a split second for what Isabel was saying to click in Eira's mind, and the horror lying within the implications of Isabel's words was enough to make Eira rise from her seat quickly, slamming her hands down on the tabletop, splintering wood.

"NO," she screamed, her eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears. "He would _never_—"

"You didn't let her explain," said Stan, shaking his head and giving Isabel a look.

"What are you going on about!" exclaimed Eira impatiently, leaning over the desk to glare down at the two vampires sitting before her.

With a sigh, Isabel motioned for Stan to hand her the stack of manila envelopes that were near the edge of the desk. With nimble fingers, the Latin vampire began shuffling through them, giving back the ones that she did not need to Stan, who set them back on the desk. After a moment of reading over titles and names, Isabel settled for a manila envelope that was thicker than the rest, and promptly opened it, dumping its contents on the desk for Eira to see.

"This is why we said nothing," was all Isabel said as she looked down at the newly formed pile of papers scattered across Eira's desk.

The papers were photographs, large, black and white images developed on glossy film paper with a white border. Confusedly, Eira looked down at the 30-some-odd photographs, her eyes softening as she found a pattern to the images.

They were all of her—her and Godric—candid shots of them milling about in their private home on the outskirts of Texas. Eira could not believe what she was seeing. Their home—a small, inconspicuous, two-bedroom house painted yellow with white trim, was something that _no one_ knew about. It was their private place, their "getaway island" when the nest got too crowded for their tastes. Not even Isabel and Stan knew of its location, because Eira had wanted her little yellow house to be special, to be a place where she and Godric could just be themselves without the judgmental gazes of others, but now…

"What is this?" asked Eira in anguish, her voice barely above a whisper as she picked up a photograph that displayed her and Godric sitting on the roof, staring up at the stars. "Who took these?"

"The Fellowship of the Sun," spat Stan, his face contorting in rage at seeing the obvious grief on his superior's face, "they've been targeting _you_ for months. We suspect that Godric turned himself in so that they would spare you."

At that, Eira's head snapped up so fast that an audible pop came from the back of her neck, making both Isabel and Stan cringe.

"Godric, he…" Eira was at a loss for words. This was all her fault. She was the intended target and Godric had offered himself so that she would be left alone. _Oh god…_

"Fucking Reverend Steve Newlin," hissed Eira murderously, "fuck him and his whole family and his whole _fucking_ church—_**FUCK**_! Of _course_ it was them! And Godric…"

"Eira?" asked Isabel questioningly.

"I got a text," began Eira, taking in a deep breath, "from an unknown number. It read: _The Fellowship of the Sun_—nothing more, nothing less. I tried calling back, but the number went dead, so I had 'Mina look into it. She traced the call back to a disposable cell phone, bought with a credit card that is currently under the name of Sarah-_fucking_-Newlin—the Reverend's _fucking_ wife! Why the bitch would send me such a text is beyond me, but she got her point across, because I'm _sure_ they are just _dying_ to get our attention.

"And guess what," continued Eira with a snarl, her eyes set in a deadly glare as she looked at Isabel, "I haven't killed her yet, Isabel. Suck on that!"

Isabel remained silent.

"My home," sighed Eira after calming down, her mind in a haze, "no one is supposed to know of it. _You two _do not even know of it! How could… how did _**they**_ find it?"

"They had one of their men follow you from here," said Isabel quietly.

"Do we know what they're going to do to him—why they need a vampire?"

"No," said Isabel hesitantly, mentally preparing herself for the explosion that was sure to come.

Eira couldn't believe what was happening. They had taken her lover, and now compromised her home. She couldn't go back there anymore, they had tainted it, ruined it with their filthy, meddling hands…

"They've made a _grave_ mistake," hissed Eira in a sinister way, eyes narrowed. "The sun will rise within the hour—I want the proper arrangements made before you two go to ground."

Isabel and Stan nodded.

"So what's the plan, boss-lady?" asked Stan as he rose from his seat.

"We end this _**now**_," said Eira darkly, quickly gathering all the photographs into a neat pile. "I do not care that Godric offered himself—we will get him back, and I do not care _who_ I have to kill to achieve that. He is a fucking _idiot_ for not telling me anything! We could have handled this _together_!"

Eira was seething.

"_God_, just wait until I get my hands on the Newlins—I'll make them _pay_ for meddling in my life!"

"But, Eira," said Isabel in a worried tone, "Godric _offered_ himself, you cannot simply—"

"I will _**KILL—THEM—ALL**_—IF I HAVE TOO!" yelled Eira, enraged, before hissing quietly, murderously, "You do not _fuck_ with Eira Northman and get away with it… Oh, and Godric will get an earful after all of this shit is over, you better fucking believe it..."

* * *

**Fun fact: **This is the chapter that started it all.

Get ready.


	14. Fallen Angels

Eira was up hours before sundown; sleep evaded her. With everything she had found out the night before, she couldn't close her eyes without having a nightmare flash across the back of her eyelids. She had begun "the bleeds" since she was refusing to rest, but after drinking a few packets of donated blood that were always kept around the nest, she controlled the blood dripping down from her ears and nose. Nevertheless, she stuffed her ears with cotton balls, and kept a napkin in her pocket just in case her nose started to bleed again.

She spent her time getting ready, picking out an outfit meticulously, enjoying the calmness of an empty nest, for she had ordered everyone to clear out the night before, not wanting anyone near her should she turn foul. Leisurely she walked throughout the quiet house, humming to herself as she idly inspected the decorations, letting her mind wander aimlessly.

Eira could not _wait_ until all of this shit was over. She was overdue on vacation time. Maybe she'd convince Godric of retiring to their Parisian penthouse for a time—after she chewed his ass out for doing things behind her back, that is.

Settling down in front of the large television in the sitting room, Eira turned on the television and set the channel for the local news. Clear skies and warm nights awaited Dallas, and a warning went out to mothers to not leave their children unattended on the playgrounds because of a recent string of kidnappings and rapes. Eira shook her head at that—she did not like rapists, or anyone who hurt children.

A smirk made its way onto Eira's lips as she remembered what she had done to all the men who had touched Romina. Oh, that had been a _glorious_ night. Romina had learned to kill, and Eira had helped her child get revenge.

Eira's phone suddenly went off, and she turned off the television and quickly darted to her room. Her phone lay on the bedside table, an unknown number flashing across the screen. Eira was hesitant as she picked up her phone; was Sarah Newlin calling her? Was the bitch going to taunt her again? Well, there was only one way to find out…

"'Ello?" asked Eira, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Is this Eira Northman?" asked a very familiar voice with a southern accent.

"This is she," said Eira, quirking up an eyebrow in question once she figured out who was calling her. "How did you get my number, Bill Compton?"

"Eric," he said simply.

"Right, well, any special reason as to why you're calling me?" questioned Eira.

"There's been a problem at the airport," he said, and it was only then that Eira realized that the sun had gone down already. Her room did not have windows, with it being underground and all, and so she had to rely on her clocks to know when sundown hit. The small clock on her bedside table was telling her that it was 6pm.

Bill and Sookie were supposed to arrive _before_ sundown.

"Problem?" asked Eira skeptically, walking out of her room and into the sitting room. "I was made to understand that your jet would be arriving before sundown—is that the problem? That you're late?"

"No. We had a problem with getting another travel-coffin—Sookie thought it best to bring along my progeny," admitted Bill.

"Your human is pushing her luck," mumbled Eira, noticing that Isabel and Stan had just recently arrived. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for them to go into her office, before saying, "Well then, that's not the problem, I imagine—so _what_ is?"

"The driver that was sent to retrieve us—"

"I didn't arrange for a driver to pick you lot up," said Eira hesitantly.

"You didn't?" asked Bill, a tone of surprise in his voice.

"No," hissed Eira, her features turning dark, "accommodations in a hotel were all I made arrangements for. I figured you were more than capable of escorting Sookie to the appointed hotel yourself."

"Well, there was a driver that said he was sent by you, and he attempted to abduct Sookie."

Eira's eyes narrowed.

In a clipped voice, Eira said, "The less people knew of your involvement, the more protected Sookie was—I figured it was the least I could do after attacking her. Did you inform anyone of your little trip down here—because **_I_** certainly didn't."

"No," said Bill.

"Where are you right now?" asked Eira, walking into her office.

"Still at the airport."

"I'll send one of my associates personally to escort you and your party to the hotel," said Eira, giving Isabel a look, "now, you have the kidnapper in your custody, I presume? What have you found out?"

"His name is Leon. He was hired by the Fellowship of the Sun—that is all I know right now. I have my progeny working on him as we speak."

"Right," said Eira, eyes narrowed into murderous slits. "I'll be busy for a while, if you need to speak to me and can't reach me, give Eric a call and let him know of what's going on—he'll relay the message. For now, I've gotta go. I'll see you later."

With that, Eira hung up, nearly breaking her phone as she slammed it down on her desk. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, and she looked at both Isabel and Stan, making them nearly flinch with her dark stare.

"It appears we have a fallen angel in the garrison," said Eira softly, a sadistic glint in her eyes. "Isabel, pick up Bill Compton and co. from the airport and take them over to Hotel Carmilla. Stan, I want a log of everyone—human or vampire—whose set foot in this house since last night. Make it detailed, with background checks, CCTV footage—the whole nine yards. We've got a mouse to trap."

A little smirk settled on Stan's lips as he tipped his hat at Eira and then darted out of the room. Oh, he was going to have a field day with this, Eira was sure. This kind of shit was fun for him, but it was a headache for Eira—if she could get a headache, anyway.

"So, we have a traitor," said Isabel thoughtfully.

"We do," sighed Eira, taking a seat on her chair. Resting her elbows on the edge of her desk, she covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she said, "Did you tell anyone about this? About it being the Fellowship of the Sun?"

"No. Only Stan and I know what exactly is going on, the others only know the basics," said Isabel.

"The nest is probably bugged—correction: _my office_ is probably bugged," mumbled Eira, letting her hands slide down her face. With a tired sigh, she asked, "What did we do to deserve such treatment?"

"Simply existing is enough reason for them," said Isabel sadly, before darting out of the room, leaving Eira with her thoughts.

"Simply existing shouldn't warrant a death wish," said Eira softly, blood trickling down her nose. "Fuck, I need to sleep…"

* * *

**AN:** Shout out to all my readers who are _Supernatural_ fans!  
Did you see what I did there? Heehee...


	15. Long-Awaited Answers

Nothing—Eira found absolutely _nothing_.

The logs were squeaky clean.

The background checks checked out fine.

The security footage showed no signs of foul play.

Her office _wasn't_ bugged.

The nest was spotless.

Whoever had betrayed them had done a grade-A job of keeping their tracks hidden, but Eira would find them, it was only a matter of time before they fucked up, and she would be there, lying in wait, like a shark out for blood.

Walking into Hotel Carmilla—a lofty, striking building of black and red and expensive fixtures—Eira went straight to the front desk. The receptionist smiled down at her with a mouth full of fake teeth, and Eira returned the courtesy. After stating her name, Eira asked about the Compton party, about her brother, and was pleasantly surprised when the receptionist informed her that everyone was accounted for and that currently her brother and Mr. Compton were at the bar. With a nod and a small smile, Eira walked out of the lobby and over to the bar, finding her brother and Bill within seconds.

"Evening," she said as she approached their table.

Bill nodded his head at her, and Eric rose from his seat, giving Eira a soft look before he offered her his seat, which she took after giving him a smile.

"So," began Eira with fake enthusiasm, a fake smile plastered onto her face, "where's our friend Leon? I'm just _dying_ to meet him."

Bill gave her a skeptic look before saying hesitantly, "He's been glamoured to think that we never arrived, and then sent back to where he came from."

Eira's smile dropped, and she scowled, stiffly asking, "And why is that?"

"If we kept him, his superiors would have gotten suspicious when he'd not return to them," said Bill simply.

Eira rolled her eyes. "I suppose you're right. It would have been fun to toy with him though, but we can't give ourselves away, now can we?"

From behind Eira, Eric chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

"Well then, what do we know?" prompted Eira, reaching up a hand and patting Eric's hand, which remained on her shoulder.

"He was sent by the Fellowship of the Sun, but is not a member of the congregation—they only hired him. When asked who specifically was the one to hire him, he said that he wasn't sure. The whole thing was done over the phone. Money was put in a locker for him at a Greyhound station."

"Did you ask him about the locker at the Greyhound station?" asked Eira, taking her phone out of her pocket. "If we find out which locker Leon took his money out of, we can find out who exactly left him the money to begin with."

Bill shook his head, saying, "I didn't think to ask him that."

"Damn it," mumbled Eira irritably, running a hand through her hair. "Well then, so he was hired to kidnap Sookie—"

"Not specifically," interrupted Bill.

Eira quirked an eyebrow, inclining her head for Bill to continue.

"When I asked Leon what they hired him to do, he said that he was to abduct a human in the Compton party and bring her to the church. He did not know that it would be Sookie specifically—all he was told was that a vampire is using a human to find a vampire named Godric."

Eira sighed, saying "Thank you Bill, for everything—even though it's being done begrudgingly. Extend my thanks to Sookie, and have fun with room service, I'm covering all expenses, but you already knew that. I'll see you tomorrow night at the nest; Isabel will show you the way. For now, we're done."

Bill nodded, giving Eira a polite smile before he was gone.

"Not even a glance my way," mused Eric, taking the seat Bill had left empty, "how rude."

"You don't give a fuck," said Eira with a halfhearted chuckle, pressing the number 3 speed-dial on her cell phone.

"Who are you calling?" asked Eric curiously.

"My progeny," said Eira simply, ignoring Eric's surprised look, as Romina's voice came through the line.

"Did something happen?" the Italian vampire asked softly.

"No," Eira told her child, "I just need you to do something for me. Are you busy?"

"I'm always busy, being a Chancellor for the Authority tends to keep you up all night," chucked Romina, "but you know that I'd drop everything for you. What is it that you need?"

"I need you to tap into the security feed and system of every Greyhound station within 100 miles of Dallas. A man named Leon was hired by the Fellowship of the Sun to kidnap the human we are using to help us find Godric. He says that the whole thing was done over the phone; therefore, he's not sure who exactly hired him, but his pay was left for him in one of the lockers at the station. I want to find out _who_ left him that money. Can you do that for me?"

"Was the money taken out in the last twenty four hours?"

"No clue—make it in the past three days, just in case."

"The past week would be better to check," mused Romina. "Does this Leon character have a last name?"

"I didn't think to ask, so no," admitted Eira with a sigh.

"Hmm, a challenge—give me an hour, two tops," said Romina determinedly, "I'll have a name for you before the night is out."

"Thank you, 'Mina," said Eira with a sigh, "keep me posted."

"Of course," said Romina. "Addio (goodbye), I'll talk to you soon."

"Ciao, ragazza mia (bye, my girl)," said Eira, before hanging up.

Eric gave Eira a look, which made her roll her eyes.

"Do you honestly think that I would go this long without making a progeny?"

"I'm just surprised, is all," said Eric casually. "I heard her say she was a Chancellor for the Authority… tell me about her."

"I was hoping you hadn't heard that," mumbled Eira.

"But I did," bit back Eric, giving his sister a stern look. "I want answers, _Eira_."

Eira shivered. "I hate when you say my name with its proper accent—you sound too much like _pappa_."

Eric's eyes narrowed into slits, and Eira sighed. She'd been hoping that it wouldn't come to this, but she supposed that she'd strung Eric along for long enough. He deserved an answer, and if she was going to tell him about Romina, then she might as well tell him about everything else. It was the least she could do to give him something in return for all his help. He wanted answers that only she had, and it was time to share with the class.

"On the roof," she said softly, "there are too many ears here."

Eric nodded, rising from his seat and taking his sister's hand. Together they walked out of the bar, through the lobby, and out of Hotel Carmilla all together. Discreetly they moved passed the innocent human streetwalkers, weaving in and out of the Dallas crowd until they slipped into a dark alleyway, undetected. There, protected from wandering eyes by the cover of night, the siblings took to the skies, landing on the helipad of Hotel Carmilla's roof seconds later.

"I haven't flown in a while," said Eira with a small smile, patting down her hair, which was now windswept. "I remember when Godric had begun teaching me how to fly—I thought he'd been trying to kill me, with pushing me off cliffs and all that."

"But you obviously learned," said Eric, running a hand through his now messy hair, "despite the fact that Godric's methods were always a bit… eccentric."

"You're tellin' me," said Eira with a smile, walking to the edge of the roof and hoping up onto the ledge, turning in her seat until her legs dangled off the building. She was not scared that if she tipped her body forwards, she risked the chance of falling—for a vampire who knew how to fly, sitting on the edge of a building was nothing to worry about.

Patting the empty space beside her, Eira said, "I need you to make me a promise before I say anything."

Eric gave Eira a skeptic look, but nodded his head nonetheless. Slowly he walked up to her, mimicking her sitting position on the edge of the building.

The glittering city of Dallas was laid out before them, and it was amazing to think that in one of those yellow dots of light that signified a window, Godric was being kept prisoner. Eric sighed, reached out a hand to find Eira's, and held it tightly. The Great Revelation was turning out to be the Great Fucking Mistake. Vampires should have _never_ made themselves public. They were better off in the shadows.

"What do you want me to promise you, Eir?"

"I need you to promise me that you'll remain silent until I finish my story. Some things might upset you, and I don't want any interruptions—it'll make things easier for me. It's been a while since I've shared my past with anyone, and I'll say it now—I might not even get to finish my story. There are just some parts that I don't like talking about."

Eric nodded, keeping his sights set on the city of Dallas.

"I think I was six or seven years old when I first met Godric," began Eira, looking up at the night sky, "It was during the night of your rite of passage—I wasn't having much fun in the longhouse, so I slipped out and went down to the seaside. I was there for maybe five minutes before he appeared in front of me. I knew there was something strange about him the second I laid eyes on him, but I… well, I got carried away with his tattoos. I thought they were pretty, and he laughed when I told him that I wanted one to make me pretty too. He told me I was naïve, and I guess I was back then, but I was still a child and I never ever dreamed about being in danger in his presence.

"I could have died that night so easily, but Godric… he didn't hurt me. He looked at me with this look of fascination in his eyes, almost like if I was something new to him. He asked me questions about our village, about what we did. We spent the night talking about everything and anything, getting to know each other I suppose. He didn't talk down to me, he talked to me like an adult, asked my opinion about things—it was nice to have that.

"When it was time for me to go back to the longhouse he made me promise not to tell anyone about him, and I made him promise to come back the next night—which he did. One night turned into two, two nights turned into three, and before either of us knew it, we'd known each other for years.

"Godric became my very first best friend. I told him everything, all of my secrets, my fears, my dreams. He kept me safe at night; taught me about the world outside of our village, kept me entertained with stories about his travels—he even tried teaching me Gaulish! I wasn't very good at it at first, mind you, but I learned to say a few phrases soon enough, and my accent always made him laugh.

"I always knew that there was something strange about him, he never aged, he'd only visit me at night, and he'd be standing next to me one moment and then disappear the next. I would sometimes bring him food and he'd always refuse it, saying that he couldn't eat what I ate. I never ever dreamed about him being a vampire, and he never told me about it either. He knew that I knew he wasn't normal, but he never said anything about it, and I never brought it up, content with just having his presence around—"

"Because of me, right?" asked Eric softly, turning to look at Eira, "because I was always gone. You settled for him because I was never there."

Eira sighed, giving her brother's hand a comforting squeeze. "If I said no then it would be a lie, but don't feel guilty—I understood why you couldn't be around me much anymore. You were no longer a boy—you were going to be king. Preparing to be king surpasses playing with your little sister—"

"But it shouldn't have," interrupted Eric, his eyes softening as he looked down at Eira, "I should have been there for you. If I had been more attentive of you then the wolves would have _never_ taken you away from me."

Eira didn't know what to tell her brother, so she settled for saying, "I'm not done with my story, you know. You promised me that you'd stay silent until I finished."

"Continue then," said Eric quietly, letting go of Eira's hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against him. "I won't say anything else until you finish."

Eira smiled softly. Her brother was taking this rather well, but the next part of her story would prove to bring back bad memories—for the both of them.

"The night I last saw you—saw you through the eyes of a _human_," began Eira softly, the smile disappearing from her face, "gods, it was so horrible…"

* * *

**Scandinavia, 891 A. D. | Winter**

"No no, you are saying it wrong," said Godric for the umpteenth time, making Eira groan and roll her eyes.

"Honestly," she began with annoyance, "I don't see why it's so important that I learn how to speak Gaulish. What even is a Gaul anyway?"

"Gaul is a place, and it is where I am from—"

"It is not where _I'm_ from," said Eira smartly, nudging Godric with her elbow.

Godric just gave her a smile, shaking his head. The two were sitting on a driftwood log down by the beach—it was the only place where they could talk without being seen by any of the villagers. Tonight Godric was teaching Eira how to speak Gaulish, but Eira was more concerned with playing with the freshly fallen snow. She was bundled up in her best winter cloak, and Godric was wrapped in a blanket—he was humoring her, Eira was sure. The cold never bothered him, nor did the heat. There was something strange about her friend, but she didn't pay it any mind. He would tell her on his own soon enough.

"What am I even saying?" asked Eira, "it all sounds like nonsense to me. You know, just random sounds leaving my mouth. I could be cursing myself for all I know."

"You could be, but you are not," said Godric simply, "now, sound out the—"

The two continued for a few more minutes, with Eira complaining all throughout Godric's teachings, but soon enough she managed to sound out correctly what Godric had been so adamant in teaching her. She said the words a couple more times, just to get a feel for them, and every time she said them correctly, Godric would smile, nodding his head approvingly.

"So, what have I been saying?" asked Eira curiously.

"Those words translate to: _thank you,_" said Godric with a mischievous grin.

"Thank you?" asked Eira in disbelief. "Have I really—"

"You're welcome."

"What?"

Godric grinned at Eira's confused face, and ignored her questioning gaze as he pulled out a necklace from his pocket. Silently he placed it on her lap, and Eira gasped. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The chain was dainty, made of gold, and at the end of it hung a large oval moonstone pendant that was surrounded by small, glittering diamonds. Eira held the necklace up against the moonlight, admiring its delicate beauty, a large smile on her face, and her eyes welling up with tears. No one had ever given her such a gorgeous gift, and it meant the world to her that it was Godric who gave it to her.

"I don't know what to say," whispered Eira, marveling at her necklace.

"You can say thank you again," said Godric with a pleased smile, holding his head high, looking every bit the part of a proud peacock.

"Thank you—"

"No no, say it in Gaulish."

Eira laughed, shaking her head as she shoved Godric playfully, but she acquiesced with his request, telling him thank you in Gaulish, and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

"This… I don't…" trailed off Eira as she pulled away from the hug, "you've stolen my words, Godric. How will I ever repay you?"

Godric shook his head, saying, "I do not need payment. Allow me to put it on you, yes?"

Eira nodded eagerly, handing Godric the necklace and lifting up her hair. Godric's arms went around her as he put the necklace around her neck, and after securing the clasp, he kissed the back of her head tenderly before moving away.

The necklace hung heavy on Eira's neck, but it was a welcomed weight on her chest. She reached up a hand to touch the moonstone; feeling is cool smoothness, giggles escaping her.

"Promise me never to take it off."

"Taking it off never crossed my mind," said Eira with a smile. "I'll wear it forever."

Godric smiled, casually saying, "You know, forever is a long time."

Eira smiled, saying, "I know, but I—"

Someone screamed.

Godric's head quickly snapped in the direction where Eira's village lay, and his eyes narrowed as the screams grew louder.

"Stay here," he commanded Eira, rising from the driftwood, the blanket around his shoulders dropping to the ground.

"What's going on, Godric?" asked Eira hesitantly, standing up as well.

"I'm not sure," said Godric, turning to look down at Eira, "just stay here until I come back for you."

"But—"

"_Eira_," hissed Godric, "do not test me. **Stay here**."

Godric was gone after that, having disappeared before Eira's eyes. Eira was stunned. Godric always did that, he was there one moment and then the next he'd simply vanish—he was not normal, not at all, but Eira did not have time to dwell on such thoughts. Something was happening in her village, people were screaming, there were flashes of light that indicated fire, and her family…

_Sorry Godric_, thought Eira, before she began running. Her legs burned as she ran all the way up the path that led to the village. She needed to get to the longhouse; she needed to make sure that her family was safe. Godric would be so mad once he returned to the beach to find it empty, but Eira could not be bothered with his temper right now.

Wolves were attacking her village, hundreds of them. Eira had never seen so many of them gathered together all at once.

As best as she could she ran through the village, dodging wolves by hiding behind wooden barrels filled with water, ducking behind trees, and crates of food—Eira did everything to hide from them, all the while getting closer to the longhouse.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around Eira, lifting her off the ground and pressing her into a hard chest. Eira screamed, waving her hands around blindly, hoping that she'd manage to hit whoever was grabbing her, but then a soothing voice hushed her, whispering in her ear that it was all right, that she was safe, which soothed Eira enough to allow her to be taken behind a tree without much fuss, out of sight.

"Eira," said a voice, "I told you to stay on the beach."

Eira's eyes widened as she realized that it was Godric who held her, and she stilled her movements, looking up at him with relief in her eyes—until she saw his mouth. There were two large fangs protruding from his gums, fangs that she knew had no business being there, and they were stained red.

"W-what," Eira stuttered, her eyes widening in fear.

Godric sighed, his eyes narrowing as he repeated, "I told you to say on the beach."

"My family," said Eira, her eyes never leaving Godric's bloody mouth, "I need to be with them."

"It is not safe—"

"**They** will keep me safe!" exclaimed Eira, struggling to get out of Godric's arms, fear consuming her, "please, just let me go! Don't hurt me!"

Godric's eyes widened in surprise, and he let go of Eira. Eira wasted no time running away from him and to the longhouse. She tripped and fell multiple times along her way, tears staining her cheeks, and finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she stumbled into the longhouse, only to be tackled to the ground by a wolf.

"EIRA!" screamed a voice, a voice that Eira recognized as he brother's voice.

"**_ERIK!_**"

* * *

With a sigh, Eira paused in her storytelling, looking up at the Dallas night sky, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Everything that she'd ever known was taken away from her that night. She could still picture Eric's horrified face as he watched her claw at the ground, doing everything in her power to get away from the wolf who'd tackled her—but what was a fourteen year old girl in comparison to the big bad wolf?

"Please don't make me say what happened next," she whispered, leaning into her brother's embrace. "Don't make me say it, _please_."

Eric was silent, a stoic expression on his face, but on the inside he was seething. His arm tightened around his sister's shoulders, his own memories of that night flashing before his eyes. The wolves had taken them all by surprise; his mother had been the first to go, her throat was torn out so quick that Eric hadn't even been able to pick up his sword in the amount of time it took the wolves to move on to his father. By the time he'd slain three wolves, his father was bleeding out on the ground, and in had stumbled Eira. She hadn't even been two steps past the threshold before a wolf tackled her, pinning her to the ground and sinking its jaws into her shoulder. She had screamed so loud, her eyes wide in fear and pain as the wolf dragged her away into the night.

Eric blinked back tears. The image of his sister, bleeding, screaming, clawing at the ground as she was dragged away, would be forever burned into his memories. He had thought it was the end of her, just as it had been the end of his mother and father, but obviously, there was more to this story, and he was eager to hear what happened next, despite Eira's pleas.

"Just tell me, Eir," he said softly, "I need to know."

"I—I don't know if I can," whispered Eira, burying her face in Eric's side.

"Just try," begged Eric, wrapping his other arm around his sister, "please. I _implore_ you. Tell me what happened."

Eira remained silent for various minutes, sniffling softly against Eric's side, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. After composing herself, she took in a deep breath, bringing up a hand to wipe away her tears.

There was a reason why she hated rapists—why she despised those who hurt children. There was a reason why she had pitied Romina, and why she loathed being touched by strangers.

"The wolf that dragged me away," she said softly, pulling away from Eric, keeping her head down, "he could turn into a human—all the wolves could. They were werewolves—I didn't know that at the time, of course. One of them couldn't turn into a wolf, though—it was a man who wore a cloak, and kept his face hidden with a hood; he was their leader. The wolf that took me dragged me up to the man, and the man picked me up off the ground and made me stand. He lent down and held me still, lapped at the blood on my shoulder, sniffed my neck, and then spoke to the wolf in a language that I did not understand. He then ripped off my necklace, and disappeared.

"The wolf was suddenly on me again, dragging me off into the woods. Other wolves followed us, and it wasn't until we were deep enough into the woods that the wolf let me go, and that they all turned into humans. They were all men, and they… they did _things_ to me. They grabbed at me, ripped off my cloak and—"

"Stop," exclaimed Eric, letting go of Eira and turning in his seat to step onto the roof.

Eira watched her brother with sad eyes, watched as bloody tears stained his cheeks. His hands were balled up into tight fists at his sides, and blood began to drip down from his clenched fists. He was shaking in anger, his fangs out, muttering angrily to himself in old Nordic. His eyes were narrowed into slits, so black that it was as if a demon had possessed him. He was hurting, and angry, and Eira didn't know what to do or what to say to sooth him. She just let him be, let him dart around the roof, watching him closely as he tried to calm himself down.

It took Eric twenty minutes to calm himself. Eira grew nervous as he approached her, and she flinched when he touched her shoulder. Eric immediately took a step back, keeping his hands by his sides. A pained look flashed across his eyes.

"What happened _after_?"

"It was an hour before sunrise when Godric found me," Eira told her brother, turning around in her seat so that she could hop down from the ledge. She reached out and grabbed his hand, and gave Eric a small smile, continuing with, "I was turned that night."

"And the weres?" asked Eric quietly. "The ones who touched you—"

"Godric killed them, but by the time he found me, some had already left—he's told me about _Operation Werewolf_, you know. About how you and him managed to trace a few of them down, and how their leader is one of us."

Despite his better judgement, Eric smirked. Softly he said, "It appears that you were never gone from my side."

"Of course not," said Eira with a small smile. "I was well informed of your life—I'm kind of the reason why you were turned, actually."

Eric quirked up an eyebrow in question, and Eira laughed softly.

"After I was turned," she continued, "Godric took me away. He told me that I no longer had a place amongst the living, and after he explained everything to me, about what he was, and about what I was, I agreed with him, and so we left.

"He was my brother, my father, and along the way—he became my love. I don't know how it happened, but I began caring for him as more than a friend, and he cared for me in the same way that I cared for him—I think the feelings were always there, but they came to light after everything that had happened.

"Godric said that he had always planned on making me his, that there was just something about me that drew him in like a flame would to a moth. He told me that he was sorry that my turning had happened the way it did, that I had not been given a choice. He made me a promise, that he would avenge me, and that he would make them all pay for touching me, for hurting my family…

"We began hunting for the wolves that had attacked the village, for their leader—but we never found them. It was as if they had vanished off the face of the earth. Eventually I told Godric that we should just forget about the wolves, that we were just walking in circles—it was not our time to find them, and Godric agreed begrudgingly. We had wasted too much time on searching for them, time that we could have spent traveling. We moved on from that then, but it was always in the back of Godric's mind—I was more than glad to forget about the wolves.

"In time I convinced Godric to let me go back to the village. I was surprised to see that it was back to how it was before the attack—I'd figured that after you took on the role of king, you'd move your people somewhere else. Anyways, I found out that you and a group of men had gone off to battle. Godric, he is fascinated with how armies work, so when I told him about you being off at war, he was more than eager to follow you.

"We tracked you and your company after a few nights of searching and when… when I saw you," Eira took in a deep breath, whispering, "you were _dying_, Eric. You had lost so much blood, and I couldn't allow Death to take you away, so I asked Godric to turn you."

"Why did you not show yourself?" asked Eric, looking down at his sister with distressing eyes, "do you have any idea how much I mourned for you?"

"I was scared," said Eira honestly, looking away from her brother, "and stupid. I didn't want you to see me as a vampire, I wanted you to remember me as I was when I was human. I thought that if you saw me as a vampire, that you'd try to kill me, or that you'd think me a monster. Then Godric turned you, and you were made into one of us—and then I got this irrational fear that you'd turn on Godric because of me, so I left."

"How could you think such a thing," asked Eric, cupping Eira's cheek and turning her head so that she'd look at him. "You are my sister, my blood—I would have never turned on you, and Godric… how could I turn against the vampire who saved you?"

"Godric took me away from you," said Eira simply, "he—"

Eira's phone began ringing.

"Damn… It's probably Mina—"

"Ignore it," said Eric quickly, grabbing Eira's wrist to stop her from reaching her phone, "we still have much to talk about."

"I can't," said Eira softly, "It might be about who hired Leon to kidnap Sookie."

With a heavy sigh, Eric nodded, letting go of Eira's wrist. Eira quickly pulled out her phone, swiping her thumb against the touch-screen before pressing it up against her hear.

"Mina?"

"Perdonami (forgive me), but it was a _bitch_ cross referencing all the Leons in the Dallas database with all the Leons who had dealings with all the Greyhound stations that were in the 100 mile radius I searched," said Romina in a rush. "You cannot believe the shit I went through with getting pictures and CCTV footage—and then the laptop froze and Nora tried to fix it but she only ended up fucking it up more so we had to do everything all over again and use two laptops instead of one and then Nora thought—"

"Romina!" exclaimed Eira, ignoring the look that Eric was giving her upon hearing Nora's name being mentioned in Romina's tirade, "get to the point, please."

"Right, scusa (sorry)," chuckled Romina. "Well, I got a match in the end. A man by the name of Leon Gregerson entered the Greyhound station on _205 South Lamar Street_, at 8PM yesterday night. After hacking into the Greyhound's customer list, I got the name of the locker and the name of the person who made the deposit. A woman by the name of Sarah Newlin—"

"Merda (shit)!" exclaimed Eira angrily, "that fucking woman doesn't know when to quit!"

"I did well, then?" asked Romina hesitantly.

"You did marvelous, love," said Eira with a tired sigh. "Thank you for everything. I'll keep you posted—promise."

"Right, well, Nora's here and she—"

Eric quickly snatched the phone away from Eira, ignored her glare, and demanded that Romina give the phone to Nora.

Romina was obviously confused.

"Eira, are you still there? Who is thi—"

"This is Eric Northman, now give the phone to Nora," Eric all but screamed.

"Nora! You're in deep shit!" exclaimed Romina, before the phone was transferred to Nora.

"Well, if it isn't Eric Northman," said Nora flippantly.

"Cut the shit, Nora," growled Eric, "You knew about my sister and you never—"

"Godric commanded me to keep it secret," said Nora quickly, "and I can't go against my maker's word, you know that. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mina and I have a fucking laptop to unfreeze, goodnight!"

"Nora don't you dare—"

The line went dead.

"Damn it," Eric sighed, handing Eira her phone back.

"Really Eric?" asked Eira with a look of incredulity on her face. "Was that necessary? I was going to tell you about her soon enough, I just hadn't gotten there in my story yet."

"It seems that everyone's known about you but me," mumbled Eric gruffly.

Despite all the shit that was going on, Eira smiled. Walking up to her brother, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close and hugging him tightly. Wrapped up in his arms, feeling safe and invincible, she told him about Nora, and about Romina, and she filled him in on all the little bits and pieces of her life. She told him more about how she was able to move things without touching them, about Romina's ability to walk in the sun (after threatening to decapitate him should he so much as breath a word of it to anyone else), and she told him how she was never really far from him. She followed him, keeping to the shadows, making sure that nothing happened to him—she kept him safe, as if she were his very own guardian angel, and Eric had to smile despite all that he had learned.

By the time Eira finished recounting the past 1,000 years of her life, the sky had turned a light shade of cobalt blue, which meant that the sun was only moments away from rising.

"Before I forget," blurted out Eira as she and Eric made their way to the roof-access door, "I found out why Godric was taken."

"Are you serious?" asked Eric, giving his sister a look. "You decide to talk about this _now_? The sun is almost up, Eir—"

Eira gave Eric a disgruntled look, annoyed as she said, "After all your bitching and moaning about me keeping things from you, _now_ that I actually want to tell you something, you just brush me off?"

"I'm not brushing you off," said Eric with a roll of the eyes. "I'm just saying that you lack tact. Anyways, out with it then."

"Godric offered himself," said Eira quickly, not knowing how else to say it, "he was taken willingly—**_I_** had been the intended target, but he butt in and they took him before they could get to me."

Eric quirked up an eyebrow, saying, "_You_ had been the target?"

"Yes."

"Well, it makes sense," mused Eric, opening the roof-access door and allowing his sister first entrance, "if they take you then they have him at their mercy."

"But Godric didn't even tell me about this," said Eira with an irritated sigh, "I had to find out through Isabel and Stan. If he'd just told me about this we could have handled this differently."

"I agree, but for now, let's just sleep; you'll bunk with me for the day, the bed they gave me is huge. We can finish talking about this tomorrow night."

"Thanks," said Eira with a small smile.

"Anytime," said Eric with a smirk. "You've got blood dripping down your nose, by the way."

"Shit."

"Shit indeed," said Eric with a tired chuckle, "now c'mon, all I want to do is sleep. I think I've shown enough emotion tonight to last me a thousand lifetimes—it's draining. I don't know how you do it..."

* * *

**Funfact:** The moonstone necklace and the fact that it was taken from Eira is mentioned for a reason.  
It has to do with _Operation Werewolf_ and the "cloaked figure", etc. *wink wink*

The address [_**205 South Lamar Street**_] is the address of an actual Greyhound Station in Dallas, Texas.


	16. Set In Motion

Gathered in the living room of Godric's nest, Eira, Eric, Stan, Isabel, Bill, and Sookie discussed the Fellowship of the Sun. Tonight was the night that something needed to be done, because the more time Godric spent locked away in that church, the more irritable Eira got. She was hanging loosely by a thread, and any little thing was a potential trigger for her. Eric's presence was helping her get through this, though. Since telling him everything about her past, he clung to her side, his eyes watchful, thoughtful, a hand always touching her whether it was on her shoulder or resting on her lower back. It was his own way of showing her comfort, and Eira appreciated his silent efforts.

To get everyone up to speed—mainly Bill and Sookie—Eira informed the group of what she had learned the night before. Sarah Newlin was the one to have put Leon's money in the Greyhound Station, which showed a direct involvement from the church. In addition, for Sookie and Bill's sake, Eira recounted the story of the random text she had gotten from Sarah Newlin, along with the reason why Godric had been taken away from them.

It made Bill and Sookie curious to know why Godric would offer himself to the anti-vampire church just for Eira's sake. They thought of her as another nestling, just another one of Godric's colleagues—obviously, Eira was more than those things for Godric to go willingly with the Fellowship of the Sun in exchange for her being left alone. There was a history between the little blonde vampire and the Sheriff of Area 9—_if only they knew…_

"We need to make this quick," Eira was saying, "we go in, get Godric, and then get the hell out of there. We avoid any contact with the humans if it can be helped—we don't need a war against them, nor the attention that this will surly bring us."

"What we **need** to do is take these fanatics _down_," said Stan viciously, narrowing his eyes at Eira. "Full-out attack. Exterminate them like the vermin they are—leave no trace."

Isabel scoffed, shaking her head disapprovingly. Sarcastically she said, "Hmm, _vampire_-hating church annihilated—wonder _who_ did it? Fucking _brilliant._"

"I doubt the King of Texas would approve of the destruction of our international political agenda," added Bill, giving Stan a look.

"Fuck that," spat Stan, glaring at all of them. "The Great Revelation is the biggest mistake we ever made."

"As much as I agree with you on the Great Revelation being a mistake, don't use Godric to make your own little power play," said Eira nastily, crossing her arms and glaring at the cowboy. "I'd love nothing more than to have a little fun with dear old Sarah Newlin, and you bet your ass I'd get away with it too, but I cannot simply go slaughtering whoever I please just because they've angered me. If we kill one of them, then they **_all_** will come after us—we do not fucking need that right now. The cleanly and quickly we do this, the less attention we get. We do not need to give the humans any more reason to call us _monsters_. We are better than that."

"This is bullshit," said Stan gruffly, giving Eira a look of disbelief, "what the fuck happened to the Eira that would do anything to get Godric—"

Eira had Stan pinned to the floor in seconds, her hand wrapped around his neck and crushing his windpipe. She extended her fangs and hissed warningly at him, her eyes narrowed into slits and giving him a murderous look. She'd been doing so well tonight; she hadn't made any nasty or sarcastic comments when Sookie talked—she had even smiled at the blonde despite the fact that Eira did not really like her much. And now, Stan had to go and open his fucking mouth.

Eira had had enough.

"Don't you fucking _dare_, _Stanley Baker_," hissed Eira, leaning down to be nose to nose with Stan. Quietly she said, "That Eira is still here—I would kill **_anyone_**," she gave Stan a look, "who gets in my way of getting Godric back, but I've realized now that if I go slaughtering a whole town, it would only serve to fuck us over even more—Godric would not want that."

"Godric has gone soft," rasped Stan, baring his fangs at Eira threateningly.

"He has," agreed Eira flippantly, "but he is smart enough to know when _not_ to cross me, unlike you, who constantly tests my patience. Get your shit together, Stan, or else I'll get it together for you, and it won't be pretty."

"You fucking—"

"Respect your _superiors_," snapped Eira, her hand tightening around Stan's neck, pushing him into the ground to keep him from moving, showing him that right about now it would be a perfect time for him to surrender his tough cowboy act. "You have two seconds to get the fuck out of my sight."

Begrudgingly, Stan inclined his head, knowing when he was beat. Eira had hundreds of years on him, therefore, she was stronger and above him. There was nothing he could do other than retract his fangs and become submissive, lest he want to risk the chance of Eira ripping his head off, which he knew she was very capable of doing, especially right now, with how her temper had flared.

Once Eira's hand was off his neck, Stan was gone, leaving nothing in his wake other than the slamming of the front door.

With a sigh, Eira rose to her feet and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. Casually she ran a hand through her curled locks, and then adjusted the falling strap of her summer dress back onto her shoulder. After righting herself, she turned around to face the group as if nothing had ever happened, a small smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

She was not about to let Stan fuck this up.

"So," she began, walking across the living room to join the group, "where were we?"

It was silent as everyone—mainly Bill and Sookie—gave Eira a look.

Isabel didn't look the least bit surprised. She had already gotten used to such outbursts from Eira, more so in the last few days of Godric's disappearance, and with Stan, there was _always_ a fight to look out for whenever he opened his mouth. If anything, Isabel was surprised that Eira hadn't knocked Stan down from his pedestal earlier. That ranchero poser was beginning to get on Isabel's nerves. There was just something about him that wasn't right; he was just too enthusiastic about all of this.

Sookie stared at Eira with awe and fear. She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of Eira's attacks, but the fact that Eira did not want to attack the humans was worth noting... despite the fact that she made it known constantly that she could kill everyone and get away with it. Still, Eira did not want to have an all out war between vampires and humans, and Sookie had to admit that her opinion of the strange little vampire was changing. Maybe, after all of this was over and after Eira got her cool back, Sookie could forge a friendship with her.

Bill on the other hand looked at Eira with curiosity and a hint of mistrust in his blue orbs. Why was this affecting her so much? Who exactly was Godric to her to make her turn on a fellow nestling?

It was becoming clear to Bill that Eira was not simply another one of Godric's followers—she was more than that, but what exactly was she to the Sheriff of Area 9 to make him give himself to the Fellowship of the Sun willingly just so she wouldn't be touched?

All the while, Eric looked down at his sister with pride glittering in his blue eyes. Eira was proving to be an exceptional fighter. It never ceased to amaze him how graceful her actions were. She had the moves of a dancer—flowing, smooth, quick and sharp. He was eager to see how she'd handle herself in a proper fight with fists flying and blood gushing everywhere. He was sure it would be a remarkable sight; his sister was a warrior, a shield maiden—a Valkyrie.

"For a lil' bit, you are sometime fierce, girl," said Sookie, breaking the silence.

Eira gave Sookie a genuine smile.

"So, what are we gonna do?" asked Sookie, looking at all the vampires present. "I got an idea, if anyone's interested."

"Surprise me," asked Eira, genuinely interested.

"Well," began Sookie, looking proud of herself, "ya'll can't go in there because that would just cause a lot of problems, so I was thinkin' that maybe it would be best if I infiltrate the Fellowship of the—"

"Absolutely _not_," exclaimed Bill, looking livid.

"Let her speak," said Eira curiously, inclining her head for Sookie to continue.

"Since Bill glamoured the kidnapper, no one knows who I am," pointed out Sookie, ignoring the warning glares Bill was sending her. "I'll pretend to join the church, and check out their thoughts—it'll be easy. If they even think of Godric for a split second, I'll know."

_Hmm, this could work_, thought Eira, _sending in a human would be better than us going in there personally—maybe she'll have a better chance, with her telepathy and all that._

Eira had to admit that what Sookie proposed did sound appealing. Eira had been so focused on going in herself that she had almost forgotten about Sookie's purpose in Dallas—the human was supposed to help them; this was the perfect opportunity for Sookie to do just that. It would be for the best in the end. Having a group of vampires' storm into an anti-vampire church wouldn't look good no matter how many ways you tried to sell it. The last thing any of them needed was a PR mess.

However, Bill was not about to let his human put herself in danger without having a say in the matter.

"During the day, none of us can help you," Bill told Sookie seriously, giving her a pleading look.

_Mina could help during the day_, thought Eira quickly, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She was not about to drag her progeny into this. _No one_ could know about Romina's ability to walk in the sun—it was enough that Eric, Nora, and Godric knew about it. If such a thing was publicly found out, Romina could be taken away and have who knows what done to her. Eira was not going to let that happen. One vampire taken from her life was enough. She wasn't sure she'd be able to cope with having her child taken from her as well.

"It'll only take a little while, really," said Sookie with a sigh, resting a comforting hand on Bill's arm. "It's simple, Bill."

"I cannot—"

"We'll do it," decided Eric before Bill could finish his sentence.

"No," said Bill stubbornly, sending Eric a dark look.

"The decision is made," countered Eira strongly, ending further talk in the matter. "Sookie will help, and that's that. I want this done as soon as possible."

"I could go this coming morning, or afternoon," said Sookie easily, not at all thinking about the dangers there could be should her identity be found out.

"The afternoon would be best," decided Eira. "For now, you are free to go. Be ready by 4AM, we'll talk more then."

Sookie nodded, sending Eira a small smile, which Eira acknowledge with a nod of her head.

Turning to look at Bill with a knowing look, Eira said, "I have a feeling you want to say a few things."

"I do," admitted Bill, giving Eira a look of disdain.

"Well, come on," said Eira, beginning to walk out of the living room, "Eric, you too. I have a feeling Bill wishes to speak to you more than he does me. You **are** the one who dragged Sookie into this, after all."

"I feel so loved, Eir," said Eric sarcastically as he followed Eira, Bill behind him.

"Consider yourself lucky;" said Eira with a teasing smile, "I do not give my love so freely."

"I'm sure you don't," said Eric heedlessly.

Rolling her eyes, Eira led the two vampires into her office, where she promptly shut the door behind them and gestured for them to sit before her desk.

Meanwhile in the living room, Isabel began questioning Sookie on her human-vampire relationship with Bill. Isabel had her own human companion, a man by the name of Hugo, and she was curious as to how another couple of different species were handling things.

Once Bill and Eric were seated before Eira, Eira hopped onto the edge of her desk, forgoing her chair.

"Well," she asked Bill, giving him a knowing look, "start talking."

Bill nodded, and then quickly turned to look at Eric. Eira was not surprised that Bill's words would be directed towards her brother. Eric was the one who had damn near demanded that Sookie come along with them to Dallas, after all.

Giving Eric a glare, Bill said, "You knew it would come to this. She was just clawed and poisoned by a creature we don't know and we can't find, and now, in Dallas, you're playing with her life."

"It's no game for me," said Eric simply, shrugging his shoulders carelessly.

"Sookie's a big girl," added Eira, giving Bill a lofty look, "she can do as she pleases. If she wants to infiltrate the church, then she'll do it. She was brought here to help us, and so she will."

"All this for a colleague?" asked Bill in disbelief, giving both Northmans a look, "for the Sheriff of Area 9? Why?"

Eric said and did nothing for a moment, deep in thought, and then slowly he turned to look at Eira. The siblings shared a silent conversation with their eyes, which only lasted but a few seconds before Eira gave Eric a little nod.

"_Han kommer att få reda förr eller senare_ (He will find out sooner or later)," she said with a shrug.

"_Du hellre det förr, än_ (You rather it be sooner, than)," asked Eric.

"Might as well."

Eric nodded.

"Godric is our maker," he said simply.

"And he is my fiancé," added Eira, lifting up her left hand to flash Bill a brief glimpse of her engagement ring.

Bill was surprised. He said nothing, and simply looked at the two siblings with a look of disbelief. His eyes lingered more on Eira, though. It all began making sense to him; the way she acted out with Stan just moments ago, her urgency to get Godric back, the blatant loyalty she showed for the Sheriff of Area 9… she and Godric's bond was more than that of a maker and progeny.

"Sookie will help us," said Eira with finality, "and I _dare_ you to stop her. As I told Stan: I would kill anyone who gets in my way of getting Godric back."

"Is that a threat?" asked Bill with narrowed eyes.

"More like a fact," said Eira with a shrug. "If it was your Sookie who was taken away from you, you'd do anything for her, just as I would do anything for my Godric. I have killed for him before, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

"I can't believe this," said Bill grumpily, running a hand through his hair worriedly.

Eira shrugged, saying simply, "Welcome to Dallas, Mr. Compton. I hope you enjoy your stay. If it makes you feel any better, I plan on having Isabel's human accompany Sookie. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got things to do. I suggest you take your human back to the hotel and get a few hours of rest—she's going to need it."


	17. Finding Him

At exactly four in the morning, Eira, Isabel, and Hugo arrived at the hotel room that belonged to Sookie and Bill. Eira knocked on the door thrice, and waited for someone to answer her. She could hear movement from within the room, along with hushed, slightly furious, whispers. No doubt, Bill was probably trying to persuade Sookie to take it all back, to back down from the plan and go back home to Louisiana with him that very moment. It was commendable how much love Bill had for his human, but Sookie would be leaving Dallas over Eira's cold, dead body (_pun intended_)…

Eira had given Romina much thought in the past few hours as well. Her progeny could very well be the one to go along with Hugo—she could pose as a human, and should things go awry, she had her vampire strength and speed to fall back on. In addition, it would be much safer for Hugo to go into the church with the company of a vampire. The only problem with Eira's plan, though, was that should Romina pose as a human, the vampires would know within seconds that she was actually one of them, and Eira had the safety of her progeny to take into consideration.

If push came to shove, then Eira would consider bringing her child into this, for now though, she would just let Sookie go through with the plan. There was no need to drag Romina into this, at least not any time soon—and Eira hoped that it never came to that. Romina's abilities needed to remain a secret; she was just too valuable to lose.

"Who is there?" asked a voice from behind the hotel door.

"Eira Northman," answer Eira simply.

The door opened after that, revealing a rather tired looking Bill. There was no doubt in Eira's mind that he had spent all his time in the hotel room with Sookie trying to convince her that this was a bad idea.

"This is Hugo?" asked Bill, giving Hugo the once over with a clinical eye.

Eira nodded, and Isabel said, "He is mine."

Bill kept a watchful eye on Hugo as he stepped to the side, allowing his guests into the room. Motioning with his hand, he directed them to the sitting area, where two armchairs flanked a large sofa, one of the armchairs currently occupied by Sookie. Eira, Isabel, and Hugo took a seat on the sofa, while Bill took a seat in the remaining armchair.

"So," began Bill, looking at Hugo clinically from his seat, "why do you want to help us?"

"I would do anything for Isabel," Hugo said without hesitation, looking at Isabel as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

Sookie smiled—she had read his thoughts, and Hugo was being sincere.

"It's true," she said, looking deeply into Hugo's eyes, "he loves her—" she looked at Isabel "_You_. He loves you very much."

"And I him," said Isabel with a small smile, placing her hand on Hugo's knee, looking at him fondly.

"With Hugo there," interjected Eira, looking at Bill, "Sookie will be less likely to arouse suspicion. People of the church, they have a way of not trusting a woman when she's absent a man."

Bill inclined his head, knowing that Eira spoke the truth.

"And I have to say," added Sookie, giving Bill a look, "as a woman who's been absent a man most of her life, that could not be more true."

"Hugo will also provide extra protection should anything happen," said Eira, giving Bill a small smile.

"I appreciate what you are doing," said Bill, speaking to Isabel and Hugo.

"Godric is my sheriff," said Isabel simply, "it would be criminal of me not to offer something that would help."

"So it's decided then," said Eira with a hint of definiteness in her tone, looking at Bill, "Hugo and Sookie will go together. Isabel and I came up with a plan to get them into the church easily—they will pose as an engaged couple who are looking for a church to hold their wedding. What do you think?"

"It will suffice," agreed Bill against his better judgement, still weary with the idea of letting Sookie into the lion's den with only a human to protect her, but he had to admit that it was better than having her go at it alone.

"Do you have a ring that could pass off as an engagement ring?" Eira asked Sookie, who nodded.

"I've got that part covered," said Sookie with a grin, lifting up her right hand and flashing a small diamond ring, "all I have to do is switch hands and they'll be none the wiser."

"Good," said Eira with a nod. "You and Hugo will go at noon—the closer we get it to being further along in the day, the sooner we could intervene should anything happen. In addition, I think noon is just early enough to not arise suspicion, but also late enough to say that you two have been church hunting in the morning and that the Fellowship was the last place on your list, or something like that. You and Hugo can work out the little details as you go along."

"Sounds perfect," said Sookie unfalteringly, giving Eira a smile.

"Right, well, I think that pretty much covers—"

Eira's phone began to ring just then. She pulled it out of her pocket, and looked down at the screen. Romina's name flashed before her, and Eira looked down at her phone with curious eyes. Why would Romina be calling her? Eira had not asked her for anything, at least not recently. Maybe something was wrong…

"Do you mind if I take this right now?" asked Eira, looking at everyone in the room.

"Go ahead, we're done now anyways," said Isabel.

Eira nodded, and brushed her finger across the screen, accepting the call and bringing the phone up to her ear. Before she could even manage out a greeting, Romina nearly yelled, "Do you currently have access to a computer?!"

Bill and Isabel, who could hear Romina clearly due to their enhanced hearing, gave Eira a questioning look, and Eira shrugged, looking confused. What could Romina possibly want now?

Sookie and Hugo watched on in silence, sharing a look of confusion before they turned their eyes onto Eira.

"No," said Eira cautiously. "What is this about?"

"I hacked into the Fellowship of the Sun's security footage," said Romina triumphantly without missing a beat.

Eira's eyes widened in surprise, along with Isabel's; Bill remained stoic, but his eyebrows rose in question. This was news.

Sookie and Hugo just stared at all the vampires, itching to ask what they were hearing, but knowing that now was not the time to ask questions. Something was up, and they needed to remain silent.

Had Eira misheard Romina? Did she really just say that she had hacked into the church's security footage? Why would Romina do that? Eira had not asked that of her—she hadn't asked her to do anything in regards to the church.

"You did what," asked Eira doubtfully, a hint of surprise in her tone.

"I found him," said Romina with an excited laugh.

"_**What**_?" questioned Eira, feeling her chest begin to tighten. She could not get her hopes up—Romina was probably talking nonsense. Eira could not allow herself to be filled up with false hope, but Romina's next words brought Eira close to tearing her hair out and throwing her phone across the room all at once.

"I found him—_Godric_," exclaimed Romina, sounding pleased with herself. "I'm looking at him right now!"

Isabel gasped, and Bill leaned forward in his seat, watching Eira intently.

Sookie and Hugo shared a confused look, watching the vampires intently, studying their facial features and trying to figure out by the expressions on their faces and with Eira's side of the conversation what was going on. So far, they managed to figure out that something important had happened. Isabel's shocked facial expression, Bill's suddenly pensive face, and Eira's still form were enough to silently inform the humans that whatever was being said on the other end of the phone, was big.

Eira sat very still, her eyes wide, lips parted slightly. Her hands began to shake and she nearly dropped her phone. Her thoughts were racing across her mind a mile a minute—all the possibilities of Godric's condition flashed before her. She felt like laughing, and crying, and jumping up and down—oh, how much she loved her progeny right in that moment.

"Do you have a computer?" Eira quickly asked Bill, sounding desperate.

"No," said Bill despairingly, "I apologize."

"Damn it," muttered Eira, running a hand through her hair worriedly. "I've got no computer."

"You're in Hotel Carmilla, correct?" asked Romina.

"Yes."

"What room number—and who is it under?"

"408," responded Eira, "Bill Compton."

"Well, I'll have you know that nowadays your television set—if it's a flat screen—can very well **BE** your computer," said Romina offhandedly, her voice followed by the sound of fingers furiously typing away on a keyboard. "Hotel Carmilla has this thing that they do, where you can order room service right off the menu screen of the television—kind of like that "_pay per view_" or "_on demand_" thing. Anyways, it has all sorts of apps integrated into it, one of them being a web browser. Now, if you can get into the web browser, I can follow the IP address and bring up the security feed on the television."

"Ti amo (I love you)," exclaimed Eira, quickly snatching up the remote off the coffee table and turning on the television.

"And I you—now get into the internet, please. I need you to establish the connection first, and then I'll be able to follow it. It'll be much faster than me just hacking into the system, trust me."

Setting her phone down on the coffee table after setting it on speakerphone, Eira began toying with the menu screen, finding the web browser quickly and selecting it. She set the remote down after that, and turned to look at Isabel with hopeful eyes. Isabel smiled, grabbing one of Eira's hands and giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze.

"What's going on?" asked Sookie, staring at Eira curiously, finally fed up with not knowing what was going on.

"I've got a friend who's really handy with computers," said Eira vaguely. "She's going to show us something in a few minutes."

"Right now, actually," spoke up Romina through the speaker, "I'm already in the system. Hotel Carmilla should really protect their connection more—anyways, the television should begin to flicker on and off in a moment, and then it will turn off for a couple of seconds—no one freak out, please! That's just me."

"Do what you gotta go," said Eira, her sights glued to the television screen.

It only took a moment for the television screen to begin flickering on and off, just as Romina had said it would. Soon after, it turned off completely for a few seconds, before turning back on again. Instead of the menu screen coming back, the desktop of a personal computer was in its place, the wallpaper being a picture of Eira standing between two brunette women, all smiling—Nora and Romina.

Everyone watched intently as a mouse came into view, moving around on the screen, clicking icons. Various windows began popping up, all black, with white letters and numbers—code. Suddenly the screen turned off again, and Romina's voice came through the speakerphone, asking that she be given a second.

Soon the television was back on, and rather than the image of a personal desktop, in its place were four windows. They were video feeds, but the focus was off. The image was blurred by static and noise, distorting its content. Despite that though, an underlying shape could be seeing in all four windows—the shape of a person, walking around in circles, pacing.

"What exactly are we looking at?" asked Hugo curiously, staring at the four blurry windows.

"Security footage," answered Eira, not sparing him a glance, her eyes glued on the television.

"And so sorry for the shitty quality," spoke up Romina, "but give me a few seconds to changes the settings. Ripping the feed has simply shot down the eminence, and I have to recalibrate it manually."

"No rush," said Eira, detached, her eyes focused solely on the four windows.

It was silent after that, all eyes glued to the television screen. Soon enough the images held within the four windows began to get clearer, more focused, and in the span of 10 seconds, everyone was staring into the corner of a room, sectioned off by a chain-linked fence—a makeshift cell.

Sadly, the image was in black and white with no sound, but there was no mistaking the physically _sixteen-year-old-looking_ boy pacing in the small space, being weary to not let his extremities get anywhere near the fencing.

"Jesus Christ," gasped Sookie, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth.

"Is that…" trailed off Hugo, eyes wide.

"Godric," whispered Isabel and Eira.

All four video feeds displayed Godric, arms crossed across his chest, pacing the length of his small cell. There was blood dripping down his nose and ears, staining his blue shirt. He was suffering from "the bleeds", which meant that he was refusing the call to go to ground when the sun came up. Other than that, he looked relatively fine. He was wearing the blue shirt Eira had bought him for Christmas, along with his favorite pair of jeans, and the sneakers he had bought two months ago—it was the outfit that Eira had picked out for him the night he'd been taken. His usually neat hair was mused, sticking up in odd angles; it looked like the bed-head he usually sported after sleeping, but Eira was sure that his messy hair was due to him running his hands through it worriedly.

An immense weight lifted off Eira's shoulders as she watched her beloved pace the makeshift cell. He was strong enough to stand and walk, which meant that he was not being drained. Besides the blood staining his shirt from "the bleeds", he was clean, and well put together, which meant that he wasn't being burned and tortured with silver, or something else. By the looks of it, the Fellowship wasn't hurting him, only keeping him locked up.

Godric was okay, for the most part. Eira felt like crying.

"Is that him?" asked Sookie, looking at Eira.

"That's him," said Eira with a nod, not taking her eyes off the screen, "that's my Godric."

"He looks so young," said Sookie softly.

"Physically, he is sixteen—mentally, he is a couple of years past 2,000," said Eira offhandedly, her eyes glassing over.

"And how old are you," asked Sookie curiously, before quickly adding, "if you don't mind me asking."

Eira shrugged. She didn't mind—her age was something trivial, and nothing that could be used against her, so she decided to ease Sookie's curious mind, telling her, "Physically, I am between fourteen and fifteen. I was born in 877 AD—turned in 891 AD, and seeing as it is currently 2008, that would make me about, 1,131, I think."

"Wow," was all Sookie could say.

"Eric is seven years older than me," continued Eira, feeling talkative all of a sudden, "he was 21 when I was turned… and he was turned 9 or so years after that. I would have been 22 by the time Eric became a vampire, if I'd remained human, that is."

"So he's older than you—but at the same time you're older than him," said Sookie, trying to sort this new information out.

"If we do not take our human age into consideration, and only count on the years we've spent as vampires, then yes—I'm older than him," said Eira simply.

"Again—wow," said Sookie, eyes wide.

"Speaking of Eric," said Eira with a sigh, "he needs to see this."

"I'll go get him for you," offered Isabel.

"I believe he's down at the bar. Tell him I'll meet him in his room," said Eira absentmindedly.

Isabel gave Eira's shoulder a tender squeeze before she was gone from the room.

"Mina," said Eira, her voice barely above a whisper, "can you do this in another room?"

"Il Papa è cattolico (is the Pope catholic)?"

"Smart ass," said Eira softly, a barely-there hint of amusement in her tone.

"Just give me the room number and whose name it's under."

"412… Eric Northman."

"I'll have it ready for you in five minutes."


	18. The Burning Truth

Dressed in one of Eric's shirts and nothing more, Eira sat before the television in her brother's room. There was a bottle of TruBlood resting on the coffee table before her, but it remained untouched; she would drink it later, but not now. Her appetite had vanished as she stared at Godric. He had stopped pacing, and was now sitting on the ground in the corner of his cell, his back resting against the wall. He had his legs up and his arms wrapped around them. From time to time he'd rest his forehead on his knees, or let his head fall back to rest on the wall, looking up at the camera. His nose and ears continued to bleed, and Eira didn't even want to think about when the last time he'd slept or fed had been.

Godric, who only wanted peace with the humans, was being kept in a cage like some worthless animal. It pained Eira to see him like that, so wrongfully judged, all because of her, and she prayed—for the first time in over a thousand years, she prayed. She prayed to Odin, to Frigga, to Thor—to anyone who would listen. She prayed and asked for Godric to be kept safe, prayed that no harm would be done to him, to get him out of there safety.

A small smile settled on her lips as she thought of what the Newlins' would think if they heard her praying—blasphemy, they would probably call it, for a vampire was the spawn of the devil in their eyes, and therefore they had no business praying to the Lord. Eira smirked—this was ironic.

"I thought you had called for your brother," the voice of Romina came out of the speakerphone resting on the coffee table.

"I did, but Isabel said he was in the middle of talking with someone, a woman named Lorena, and that he'd come up when he was done," spoke Eira.

Romina sighed. "I can't see you, but I can tell that you're hurting—maybe telling you about this wasn't such a good idea."

"No, it was a brilliant idea," said Eira, "thank you for this, really. Seeing him—it makes all the difference in the world. At least now, I know what condition he is in; it'll keep me sane until Sookie and Hugo get back from the church."

"Would you like me to monitor all the other cameras?" asked Romina. "I can keep a look out for anything fishy, if you'd like."

"Please do so."

The hotel room door opened just then, and in walked Eric. He looked around the room briefly before his eyes settled on the back of Eira's head in the sitting room—Isabel had asked him to go to his room immediately after his conversation with a vampire named Lorena was finished, but she hasn't specified why Eira needed him so urgently. Nevertheless, after saying his final words to Lorena, he'd made his way up to his room quickly, expecting something—_anything_ from his sister. Maybe she was hurt, or maybe something about Godric had been found out, but she was just watching the television, it seemed. What was so urgent about that?

"Eir, what are you—" Eric stopped himself as he took a good look at the television screen. His eyes widened in disbelief, and quietly he asked, "Is that Godric?"

"Romina hacked into the church's security cameras," said Eira simply, "she dug around and managed to find him. He is being kept somewhere in the basement."

"Why doesn't he escape," asked Eric, walking up to the television and studying the cell Godric was being kept it. It was a flimsy thing—chain-linked fencing, two sheets of it encasing the corner of the room where the two walls met. Eric knew that Godric could rip apart that fence with one finger—so why wasn't he? "That poor excuse of a cell—"

"—is made of silver," said the voice of Romina. "I watched him earlier, before getting in contact with Eira. He touched the fence and his fingers burned. Since then he's kept away from it."

Eira hadn't known that. She'd just thought that he refused to escape because it would cause trouble, and trouble was the last thing that Godric wanted. He wanted peace, to coexist with the humans without problems—if he escaped his cell then there would be panic within the church, and the church would then retaliate, and the chances of a war between humans and vampires would rise—and Godric didn't want that. The thought of him touching the fencing innocently, only to hiss back in pain as the silver burned his skin…

Eira sobbed.

Eric was at his sister's side in seconds, sitting beside her on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up against his side and bringing her onto his lap so that she sat sideways with her cheek resting above his heart. Eira immediately clung to her brother, grabbing his shirt and burying her face in his chest. She sobbed loudly, her chest heaving, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks and staining red anything they met.

Eira was in so much pain right now. She wanted Godric out of there; she wanted to take him away from all of this, to live out the rest of their days without having to worry about their backs being hunted down for something that they were not in control of.

Her emotions fought with each other, her conscience fighting with her desires. She wanted to kill them all, to hunt down every last member of the Fellowship of the Sun like they hunted vampires, but the little voice in the back of her head (that sounded suspiciously like Godric) told her that it wasn't what Godric would want, that it would only cause problems that she did not need right now, that it would not be the example they were aiming to set. Eira could not help how she felt, though. It was not fair that they were treated so cruelly because they did not fit into the ideals of those fanatics.

If only they knew. If only they could understand. Not all vampires were bad—not all vampires could help what they were. If Eira hadn't been turned then she would have died, and Godric—Godric was turned against his will.

If only they **_knew_**…

"I want him out of there **_right now_**," she cried, curling in on herself. "He doesn't deserve to be treated like that! All he wanted was peace!"

"I know, Eir," said Eric quietly, almost ruefully.

"He's done nothing wrong," said Eira in a shaky whisper, "he did it for me—he sacrificed himself for me… why can they not see that he is good?"

"Their heads are so far up their asses that they can't see reason," was all Eric had to say.

"I just—"

"SHIT!" the voice of Romina exclaimed, startling both Eira and Eric. "Shit, shit—_shit_! Questo **non è** buono (this is **_not_** good)!"

"Mina?" asked Eira hesitantly, sitting up straight on Eric's lap.

"Why is Godric being held in the church?" asked Romina, a hint of urgency in her tone. "Why did they kidnap a _vampire_ specifically? Never mind that you were targeted."

"I don't… I don't know," admitted Eira. "We don't know what they are going to do with him. That is why we sent Sookie, so she can read their thoughts and find out what's going on."

"I patched into the landlines," said Romina quickly, "there's this institute: _The Light of Day Institute_. Basically it's like their bible camp—anyways, one of the kids just made a call home, talking about how they had a vampire which they were going to have meet the sun."

"What?" hissed Eric, his arms tightening around his sister's shoulders.

"Just listen to your television," said Romina, before a small window appeared underneath the four primary windows adorning the television screen. The fifth window contained what clearly looked like a sound wave.

"—yeah," the voice of a man came out of the television speakers, his voice softened with the last remnants of his teenage years, "I ain't supposed to be telling you this, but we got one of 'em here. Reverend Newlin says that we're gonna offer the vamp to the sun. Me and one of the guys have started building this platform with a cross on it. Basically we're gonna chain the vamp to the cross, and once dawn hits the fucker will go up in—"

"TURN IT OFF!" screeched Eira, her hands flying up to her ears. She did not want to hear that. They couldn't seriously be thinking of making Godric meet the sun. _They can't… it's not possible….my nightmares are coming to life. This can't be happening, they aren't going to make Godric meet the sun, this is all just some big misunderstanding… __**THIS—IS—NOT—HAPPENING!**_

"Mina… was it?" asked Eric.

"Yes," answered Romina.

"Right, well Mina, I want you to monitor everything in that church; phone calls, security cameras—if one of them so much as sends a text, or an e-mail, I want to be the first to know about it," commanded Eric.

"You got it."

"Thank you," said Eric, before looking down at his sister. She had her hands pressed tightly against her ears, blocking out all sounds. Tears were cascading down her cheeks, and she was curled up into a little ball on his lap. Gently he coaxed her hands down, cupping her cheeks to make her look up at him.

"We'll get him out of there tonight," he promised her, "this ends now."

* * *

**AN:** I know that in the show the vampires waited two days until they stormed the church, but for the sake of moving things along quickly, I changed the two day wait into just a day... a whole afternoon, really.

**Leave a review, please!**

**New Story Alert:** If you're interested, I've posted a _**Supernatural**_ story | Castiel/OFC, Gabriel/OFC, and possible Balthazar/OFC.  
It is titled: _The Aftermath_, and is working up to being part of a series.


	19. Seguimi O Uccidimi

**Warning:** SEX SEX SEX- _YEAH!_

* * *

**Paris, France | December 24th, 2007 | 5 Minutes to Midnight**

Godric was acting strange—stranger than usual, Eira had to admit. He kept a pensive expression on his face, and when she talked to him, he refused to look her in the eye. Eira knew something was up, whether it was bad or good, that she did not know, but she was certain that Godric was up to something. He was almost secretive in his actions, and secretive was something that he never was with Eira. He was sincere, and never lied to her, and so Eira knew that he was planning something, and she wasn't sure if she should be nervous or scared about it.

Standing on the balcony of their Parisian penthouse that overlooked the Eiffel Tower, Eira simply stared at Godric as he stood beside her, his eyes set on the French monument that was a few blocks ahead of them. His hands were holding onto the railing tightly, and he blinked owlishly, occasionally closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. If Eira didn't know any better, she'd think him nervous, but what was there to be nervous about? They were alone, granted, but it wasn't uncommon for them. They were beyond past the point of awkwardly making their love-life work, so why was he acting so… twitchy?

Refraining from letting out a sigh, Eira turned around and rested her back against the railing, crossing her arms. She looked into the sitting room and over to the farthest wall, where a gilded clock hung on the pastel colored wall. It was five minutes until midnight—five minutes until Christmas.

Eira and Godric were not particularly fond of the seasonal holidays—they were pointless to celebrate since the both of them did not believe in them, and lost their appeal since Eira and Godric had lived through the creation of a few of them. Still, they always tried to do something once the major holidays came rolling about, to try to maintain some semblance of human normalcy—to mainstream, as the Authority called it. For Halloween, they stayed home and handed out candy; sometimes, if they were feeling particularly bored on that night, they'd go out and walk around the neighborhood, rating costumes. For Thanksgiving, they'd make it a point to show each other just how thankful they were of one another, and on Christmas, they gave each other one present and went about their night as usual.

This year, Godric had been particularly adamant that they spend a week in Paris, a week that happened to contain Christmas right in the middle of it. His unyielding need to be in Paris during the Christmas holiday had not gone unnoticed by Eira, but she decided not to comment on it. She cherished the intimate moments they shared, because God only knew when they'd be ripped away from each other, be it by Godric taking off with Eric on one of their campaigns, or by other, darker forces.

Life was short, even for the immortals, and if Godric wanted to be in Paris for a week because he was clearly up to something that had to do with Christmas, then Eira would let the chips fall where they may. A whole week alone with no one else but Godric as company was pure bliss for her, and she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth just because she was suspicious. She trusted Godric, and knew that there was a very good reason why he had suddenly asked her to drop all that she was doing to get on a jet with him.

"What are you thinking about?" a voice whispered in Eira's ear, nearly causing her to jump in surprise.

Godric chuckled quietly, he was now standing only inches apart from her, and his arms slyly snaked around her waist, bringing her up so that she was nestled into him.

"I'm thinking about Paris," said Eira with a shrug.

"Your favorite city," commented Godric, turning them sideways so that the Eiffel Tower was in-between them from a distance.

Paris, France, really was a lovely city, with its glittering lights and art and fashion. The scenery was fanciful and striking, and out of all the properties that Godric owned, his Parisian penthouse was Eira's favorite because its façade could not be beat... and because he had bought it with Eira in mind. It was light and airy, with tall windows and pastel colors. Gilded mirrors and frames adorned the walls, and the black marble floor sparkled underneath their feet. They had a cubby that they used when the need to go to ground came, but when the sun was away, they made use of the king-sized four-poster in the master bedroom. Eira loved it whenever she got a chance to spend a few days in Paris. It was so far from Dallas and it allowed her a moment to catch her breath and just _breathe_.

"What are _you_ thinking about?" asked Eira after a moment, resting her forehead against Godric's chest.

"Various things," said Godric vaguely.

"Anything _specific_?" pressed Eira, looking up at Godric and sending him a look that made him smile.

"You," he said quietly, a cocky smirk on his lips.

Eira couldn't help the warm feeling that engulfed her, making her whole body hum pleasantly. Butterflies flew rampantly in her empty stomach, and her gaze softened as she stared up at Godric with unabashed love sparkling in her eyes.

It was odd feeling so many emotions hitting her at once just because he'd said the word 'you', but the meaning behind that little word was what had Eira falling head over heels in love with him all over again. Godric only said things that he meant, and he always meant what he said. He had Eira completely at his mercy with that single word, and he didn't even realize it yet.

"What about me are you thinking of?" asked Eira with a teasing smile.

A dark look crossed Godric's eyes, a look of lust that Eira knew all too well.

"All of you," he said softly, seductively, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.

"Is that right?" asked Eira innocently, her soft gaze turning lusty.

"Yes," murmured Godric, before abruptly leaning back and looking over to the Eiffel Tower.

Eira rolled her eyes and let out a disappointed sigh—he always did that. He'd tease and entice her, goading her on until she'd snap and throw him down and rip his shirt open. It was a little game he enjoyed playing with her, he liked it when she took charge, but tonight Eira would not stand for it. He was up to something. She could practically smell it. She would remain placid and apathetic—that _really_ got to him, when she was unresponsive. It drove him crazy when she would ignore him.

"I could have gone a lifetime without finding anyone," Godric spoke suddenly, softly, his eyes glued to the Eiffel Tower, "sometimes it hits me just how lucky I am to have found you on that beach, 1,000 years ago."

Eira nearly cried. _How can I ignore him when he says things like that?_

"You will never know just how beautiful you are to me," continued Godric, his voice low. "Sometimes I think that this is all a dream, that I'm still that servant boy in Rome, because you… you are so much more than what I truly deserve, and I—"

"Godric," interrupted Eira, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Where were these words coming from; why the abrupt tenderness?

Slowly Eira reached up a hand to cup his cheek, and her heart nearly burst out of her chest when Godric leaned into her touch, placing a kiss on the palm of her hand, nuzzling his nose against her skin, eyes closed.

Something was off—Godric was affectionate behind closed doors, but this… this was something else—this was something more.

"What's wrong, love?" she whispered tenderly.

"L'amour de ma vie (love of my life)," Godric whispered back just as the clock struck twelve in the sitting room, "be my wife…"

* * *

Eira snapped out of her daze, tearing her eyes away from her engagement ring. She blinked owlishly as she took in her surroundings—the sun had set, and she, Eric, and Isabel were standing outside of the Fellowship of the Sun, hidden in the shadows, lying in wait. Things had gone all wrong in the span of a few short hours. Sookie and Hugo were being held prisoners in the basement of the church; someone had tipped off the Newlins' about Sookie and Hugo's little mission, and it burned Eira not knowing who the traitor was. So far, Stan was her biggest suspect, it only made sense for him to be the traitor. It was no secret that he coveted Godric's Sheriff position, but would he really have gone as far as to set this up, to get Godric taken and be burned in the sun, just so he could have a shot at becoming Area 9's new Sheriff?

It was farfetched, but Eira wouldn't put it past him.

Eira watched as mere children were outside of the church, patrolling the grounds with crossbows and silver chains. It amazed her that these teenage boys were so easily persuaded into blindly hating an entire race, just because their parents hated them too. They were brainwashed, incapable of making their own decisions—Eira pitied them. The human race had come a long way from the slave-owning, pitchfork wielders they used to be, but it seemed that with the threat of something new like a different species, they regressed.

It was true what they said, Eira supposed, that man feared what they could not control.

Eira's phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and already knowing who it was, she did not even look at the caller ID as she lifted the phone up to her ear.

"Have you found anything?" she asked, walking over to Isabel and Eric.

"They're doing some sort of lock-in right now," said Romina. "Sleeping bags, sermons—the whole congregation is in there."

Eira scowled. This was exactly what she didn't want.

"They're setting us up," she said with distaste, "they're making it so that if we go in there, there will be civilians who can possibly get in the crossfire—a large crowd that they can have as witnesses. They're smart, I'll give them that."

"Not that smart," said Romina, a hint of a frown in her voice, "they have children in there, little kids no older than 10 years old—that's not right."

"I bet half of the congregation doesn't even know what they're actually doing in there," said Eira with a frown, "they think it's a lock-in, just your regular sleepover, but when morning comes and they bring out Godric…"

Eric was quick to wrap an arm around his sister's shoulders, pulling her up against him. He remained silent, his eyes set on the church before them, but he was listening intently to Romina and Eira, just as Isabel was listening as well. He could not wait for this to end; in a few hours, maybe less if everything went well, his maker would be out of there, and Eira would not be in pain anymore. He longed to see her genuinely smile, to laugh so hard that tears streamed down her face—despite her age, he still saw her as the little girl he was meant to protect, the little girl whose life was stolen from her, and he wanted her to be carefree, to smile and laugh as any little girl should.

Eira's childhood was torn from her in one of the most brutal ways possible, and Eric thought it was time to make amends. He would make her smile, he would make her laugh—he'd buy her fucking _Disneyland_ if it meant seeing her skip and twirl in one of her pink dresses. He just wanted to make things right, to replace the memory of her bleeding and screaming on the floor as a wolf dragged her away from him…

He would make the wolves and the Newlins pay dearly for causing his sister so much damage.

"Any interesting news?" asked Isabel casually.

"Loads," said Eira with a sigh, "there are—"

"He's gone!" exclaimed Romina, making both Eric, Isabel, and Eira exchange looks. "Godric… he's not in his cell anymore! He's gone out, I only looked away from the screen for just a moment—"

Eira eyes widened, and then she took off, dropping her cell phone in the dirt in the process. Eric quickly snatched it up and threw it at Isabel, yelling, "Take it!" before he too was gone, having run off after his sister.

"Hello?" asked the voice of Romina, sounding confused.

Isabel sighed. Tonight was not going to be a good one.

"Mina, it is Isabel—tell me what happened…"

* * *

Running at a speed only a vampire could achieve, Eira entered the church faster than the Fellowship's "guards" could cock their crossbows. She kicked the locked doors open, striding into the sanctuary with her head held up high. Quickly her eyes darted around the inside of the church. The many wooden pews were filled with scared mothers hugging their children tightly to their chests, and valiant husbands standing before their families with makeshift weapons in their hands. Eira simply looked down at all the humans, not in the least interested in them.

When Eric suddenly appeared at her side, people began screaming. She supposed it had to do with how imposing her older brother looked, but Eira could not be bothered with that thought right now, she had a vampire to find.

"_Den källaren_ (the basement)," said Eira softly, before darting through the center aisle of the sanctuary and disappearing from sight.

Eric nearly rolled his eyes as all the humans began screaming even louder than before. Leisurely he walked down the center aisle, hands in his pockets and a small, malicious smirk on his lips. Their fear excited him; it made the blood running through his veins turn hot. Who were these humans to think they stood a chance against him, with their flimsy crossbows and dainty silver chains. Eric was just spoiling for a fight with these savages; he looked them all in the eye and silently dared them to do something—anything, as long as it gave him a reason to attack.

Sadly, his fun was short lived as Eira appeared at the end of the aisle, glaring daggers at him.

"_Skynda pĺ, gamle man—vi har inte hela natten för dina dumma spel! Du kan spela med dem senare_ (Hurry up, old man—we do not have all night for your silly games! You can play with them later.)"

"Old man?" questioned Eric, slightly amused. "Well then, that would make you an old hag, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would," agreed Eira darkly, "and this old hag will beat your ass if you don't hurry up!"

Eric chuckled, dropping fang, and a wave of screams crashed through the sanctuary. Eira rolled her eyes and was about to turn and dart back to the door that she thought led down to the basement, but she caught movement behind Eric's form. A boy, no older than seventeen, was advancing on them, crossbow in hand. Eira glared, pushing Eric out of the way quickly as the boy pulled the trigger.

Eric watched with great interest as his sister rose up a hand and stopped the wooden arrow in midair. A loud growl left Eira as she made a fist with her hand, and the arrow snapped in two, falling to the ground after Eira lowered her arm. Baring her fangs and hissing at the scared boy, she dared him with her eyes to draw another arrow.

The boy didn't.

"You owe me," hissed Eira, retracting her fangs with a loud click.

"Lead the way," said Eric simply, inclining his head in gratitude.

Eira nodded, darting to the back of the church. Off to the side there was an opened door with a staircase leading down, into what Eira hoped was the basement. However, before Eira and Eric could step through the doorframe, a shiver ran down their spine, filling their bodies with a pleasant hum that nearly made their toes curl.

A voice followed after, soft, as if it was being whispered in their ears—"I'm here, my children. Down here."

A soft gasp left Eira as she closed her eyes, hands balling up into fists at her sides. She hadn't heard his voice in so long…

"Eira," said Eric softly, "did you—"

"I did," said Eira joyfully, opening her eyes and looking up at Eric with a large smile, "I _heard_ him!"

"Let's go."

The siblings darted down the stairs and through a series of hallways, their eyes open wide and their ears listening for any disturbances. Eira could barely contain herself when she felt Godric's presence grow stronger with each step she took. She ran through the hallways, his summon pulling her to him and leading her into a room, which had the door broken down, no doubt Godric's doing.

Entering the room, Eira and Eric caught sight of Sookie buttoning up her dress, a distressed expression on her face as she was shakily getting up to her feet from being on the ground. In a corner of the room lay the crumpled body of Hugo, who was knocked unconscious it seemed—and at the feet of Godric, lay the body of a dead man.

It did not take a genius to figure out what had _almost_ happened to Sookie.

"Godric," said Eira weakly, stepping further into the room. Quickly she dropped to her knees, her shoulders slumping as a ragged breath left her. She was on the verge of tears, and felt oh so very tired. Relief flooded her as she scanned Godric's unharmed figure.

Eira couldn't believe that after weeks—months of being apart, she was finally before Godric, able to outstretch her hand and touch him if she felt like it. She had missed him so much—waking up every night without him hadn't felt right. To sleep with only the memory of him… it grew harder every day. She had screamed out to the stars, she had prayed to every god that she know of… and it had not been in vain!

The heavens had **_heard_** her! There was a God… and he was merciful.

"Eira," said Godric softly, walking up to her and letting his eyes soften as she stared up at him with wide, glittering blue eyes. "You should never kneel before anyone, especially not me."

A choked laugh left Eira's lips, and she quickly dug into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out a napkin. Tears finally cascaded down her cheeks, her breath coming in hiccups as she tried desperately to calm herself. She just couldn't help herself—Godric was standing before her, in the flesh; for once she wasn't dreaming! She was torn between sobbing and screaming and throwing herself at him; she wanted to bring him into her arms and take him far away from all this mess—but they had bigger things to deal with, like the fact that they were vampires in the basement of an anti-vampire church.

They were not safe.

"_Min kärlek, snälla, stå_ (my love, please, stand)."

Nodding, Eira slowly got to her feet, rubbing her napkin across her cheeks and underneath her eyes to rid her face of the bloody tears that had yet to stop running down from her eyes.

"I've missed you so much," whispered Eira.

"And I have missed you as well," said Godric softly, "but you were fools to send humans after me."

"We had no choice," said Eira sadly, sniffling and willing her tears to stop.

"These savages," interjected Eric murderously, appearing at Eira's side, "they seek to destroy you."

"I'm aware of what they've planned," said Godric quietly, sighing. He turned around then, pointing at Hugo's unconscious body as he said, "This one betrayed you."

"He's with the Fellowship," spoke up Sookie, having composed herself. "They set a trap for us."

Eira couldn't believe it—the traitor was Hugo. All along, it had been Isabel's human. It did make sense though, after Eira gave it a few seconds of thought. Even though Isabel had not been keeping her human up to speed with all the intimate details of their situation, she's still shared information with him, information that, however small, he'd been relaying back to the Newlins.

Isabel was going to be devastated.

"Are you alright," asked Eira sincerely, giving Sookie a halfhearted smile, "the man… he didn't manage to touch you, did he?"

Sookie shook her head, smoothing down the front of her dress with shaky hands.

"I'm fine," she said quietly, averting her eyes from her attacker who lay dead on the floor by Godric's feet.

"Good," said Eira, nodding to her, before bringing her eyes back to Godric, asking him softly, "How long has it been since you've fed?"

"I require very little blood anymore," said Godric, averting his eyes from Eira's pained stare.

"But you still require it," said Eira in a harsh whisper. "What have they done to you?"

"Nothing, not yet," said Godric simply. "I—"

A shrill, blaring alarm interrupted Godric. The others had come.

"Save the human," Godric commanded Eric, grabbing hold of Eira's hand.

Eric furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief, saying strongly, "I'm not leaving your side until you are—"

"I can take care of myself," said Godric with the promise of a threat in his eyes. "Spill no blood on the way out. Go!"

"What about Eira," demanded Eric, looking down at his sister, "I'm not going to leave her here!"

"She stays with me," snapped Godric, "now go! I will not repeat myself again!"

Stiffly, Eric nodded, then turned to look down at Eira and gave her a look that clearly said, "_Stay safe_." He then marched over to Sookie, grabbed her roughly by the hand, and dragged her out of the room without a second glance back.

Eira looked at Godric with disbelief in her worried orbs. She could hear Steve Newlin's voice over the PA system on the upper levels of the church, telling women to take their children to the classroom buildings, and for every able-bodied man and woman to go with the security personnel that would provide them with stakes and silver. The Fellowship of the Sun was preparing for an all out war, so why was Godric staring down at her oddly, doing nothing?

"Godric, we need to get out," started Eira, tugging on his sleeve, "they're going to—"

Godric's lips abruptly crashed down on Eira, making her stumble back, caught off guard, silencing her. His arms wrapped around her waist and practically crushed her body against his, all the contours of their forms meshing as if they were one single person. Oh, how much he had missed her…

Eira froze for a moment, her mind going blank, but a soft growl from Godric had her responding feverishly. Her arms snaking around his neck, bringing him down to deepen the kiss—her fangs extended involuntarily, nipping at his bottom lip, drawing blood. Having the taste of him in her mouth after so many weeks made a burning sensation spread throughout her limbs, causing her knees to go weak. Gods, how much she had missed him…

In seconds, Godric had Eira pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. She could feel him—all of him—pressing against her most intimate parts, hard, and pulsing, and it made a needy moan leave her lips.

She wanted him inside of her, and she wanted him now. She wanted to reacquaint herself with every inch of his skin, but with the alarm still blaring above them, they'd have to make things quick. There was time to spend hours in bed later.

Quicker than Godric could have imagined, Eira had him pinned to the ground, straddling his hips. She ground her hips into him, leaning over him, holding herself up by gripping his shoulders. She could feel how hard he was through the fabric of his pants, and the thought of what lay beneath the fabric was enough to make Eira bite her lip to suppress a hungry growl. She moved her hips front and back, rubbing herself against him, gasping as she began to feel her body begin to tingle with pleasurable anticipation of what was to come.

"Fuck," moaned Godric, his hands gripping Eira's hips. "_Show me how much you've missed me_," he said huskily in Gaulish.

A possessive growl left Eira's lips—it drove her crazy when he spoke to her in Gaulish, especially when they were in the throes of passion.

Hurriedly pulling his shirt off, soon followed by his pants and boxers, Eira nearly tore at her jeans to get them off her legs. With the help of Godric, she was completely naked in mere seconds, her blouse, bra, and jeans thrown in a random corner of the room, along with her lace panties.

"_How much have you missed me?_" Godric asked in Gaulish again, looking up at Eira with half-lidded eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin of her hips.

"So _fucking_ much," moaned Eira as she grabbed his hardened cock, not wasting any time as she slipped it into her slick opening.

Eira froze on top of Godric for a moment, her eyes tightly shut as she enjoyed the feeling of him inside of her, hard, pulsing, filling her up and threatening to split her in half with the sheer size of him.

Godric sucked in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, letting his head loll lazily to the side as he reveled in the feel of being inside his soul mate, her delicious muscles twitching around him, welcoming his girth.

Hands still on her hips, Godric squeezed to the point of leaving bruises, and Eira got the silent hint to begin moving.

Eira rode Godric hard and fast, her hands gripping his shoulders as she rocked on top of him—she moaned loudly, and screamed when he demanded it, moving her hips in rough circles and slipping herself further down on him, allowing him to fill her up to the hilt. She could feel his cock hitting her cervix, nudging her with every bounce she made on top of his hips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as a luscious jolt of pleasure went through her body, and she threw her head back, her hands leaving his shoulders to grab onto her breasts, massaging them harshly, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

Suddenly Godric flipped her over so that she was under him. He pumped into Eira viciously, going at a speed and intensity that would have broken bones if she were not a vampire. Eira gasped and mewled, the sudden assault on her body rendering her helpless, vulnerable, and exposed—at Godric's complete mercy. His lips attacked her neck, fangs retracted so that he could bite her with blunt teeth. He lapped at her skin; nuzzling his nose underneath her ear and breathing in deeply her scent of vanilla and honey, letting it fill his senses and nearly blind him.

Soon, Godric froze on top of Eira, groaning as an explosion of pleasure took over his entire body. He emptied himself inside of her, thrusting a few more times before letting out a loud groan.

Before Eira could even begin to complain about not getting her orgasm, Godric's hand found its way between Eira's legs. He kissed her languidly, his calloused fingers rubbing her down until they settled on her clit. His middle finger and ring finger went in circles around Eira's nub, causing her to break away from the kiss and gasp in pleasure. A pleased smirk settled on Godric's lips as his fingers continued to play with Eira, and soon enough, he began moving inside of her again, slowly, taking his time, building her up until she screamed bloody murder.

Her face as she came was something to behold—eyes wide open, lips parted, fangs exposed. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin, drawing blood.

Various little gasps left Eira as the aftershock of her orgasm took hold, and Godric could not have felt any prouder of himself for causing her such bliss.

The two took a moment to compose themselves, Godric finally slipping out of Eira, causing a tender, pained whimper to leave her lips. Immediately Godric looked down to between her parted legs, noticing the light trail of blood that trickling out of her slowly.

That was not supposed to have happened.

"I was too rough," he whispered, sitting up properly, bringing her into his arms and nuzzling her neck. "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to apologize for," said Eira with a small smile, leaning away from Godric to look him straight in the eyes, "you were perfect, my love."

Godric smiled, caressing Eira's cheeks. "We should get dressed."

"We should," agreed Eira, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. "Gods, how I've missed doing that…"

Godric quirked an eyebrow at Eira, teasingly saying, "I was under the impression that it was _I_ who you were missing, not my… _talents_."

"I'm only using you for your body," Eira deadpanned, and then squealed when Godric pinned her down to the ground once more, kissing her feverishly, muttering to her in Gaulish just how much he'd missed her.

"Godric—stop it!" Eira shrieked, smiling as she pushed him away, "we need to get out of here… besides, I'd rather not do that again with a corpse only feet away from me—and Hugo."

A scowl marred Godric's smile, and he looked over to the side were the body of a large, burly man lay crumpled on the floor, then over to where Hugo lay slumped against a wall, still unconscious.

"I lost control, I'll admit," said Godric softly, standing up and offering Eira his hand. "That one—" he looked over to the dead man "—was about to rape the human if I had not intervened."

"You can't be in control all of the time," reasoned Eira gently, getting to her feet.

"I was not thinking," admitted Godric sadly, "all I saw was a flash of blonde hair and that man on top of her and… I thought of you, and the night I turned you. Only after I snapped his neck did I realize that you were not under him."

"Oh Godric," said Eira with a soft sigh, turning over his hand so she could see his palm. There were pink marks on his skin, burns from silver that were still in the process of healing. With a sigh, Eira traced the pink scars that would disappear within the next couple of minutes, saying softly, "I'm alright—you on the other hand… They had no right to have kept you locked away like an animal—you could have easily escaped countless times, so why did you not?"

"Because they would have come after you," said Godric simply, staring down at Eira with such intensity that it almost made her cry, "and if that were to have happened—if they were to have exposed you to the sun to meet the True Death, then I would have met the sun willingly right after—regardless of their plans for me."

Despite the urge she had to slap him for keeping things from her, to punch him in the face for causing her so much grief, Eira could never stay mad at Godric for long. She sighed, shaking her head.

Quietly, Eira said, "Don't say things like that... just don't, please."

"They would have come for one of us sooner or later," said Godric quietly, "I just diverted their attentions from you."

"We'll talk about this later," said Eira softly, walking up to her clothes and putting on her underwear.

Godric nodded, putting his clothes on quickly, his eyes never leaving Eira.

"By the way," said Eira offhandedly, slipping into her jeans, "what's with the all-white get up?"

Godric quirked an eyebrow, looking down at his white linen pants and matching shirt; he shrugged, buttoning up his shirt as he said, "They left it for me today. I suppose they wanted me to meet the sun in white—white does symbolize purity for them, does it not?"

"There was nothing _pure_ about their intentions," muttered Eira darkly, slipping her shoes on, and then her blouse. Running a hand through her hair, she asked Godric seriously, "Do I look like I just had sex?"

Godric shook his head, and then a teasing smile crossed his lips as he said, "But you smell like it."

Eira rolled her eyes, saying pointedly, "Well, at least my hair doesn't look like the end of a broom stick, now c'mon, we gotta go upstairs—Isabel can come down for Hugo later."

Godric shook his head, a rather un-amused look crossing his features as he ran his hands through his hair, flattening down his unruly short locks. There was a reason he loved Eira… but sometimes she grated his nerves. She was too much like Eric in that respect, and he was not sure if that was such a good thing, but it did make him laugh.

Reaching out a hand for Eira to take, Godric said, "I can nearly hear Eric causing mischief."

"He's like a gremlin, isn't he?"

"_Eira_…"

"Sorry... Gizmo."

Godric sighed, rolling his eyes. He hated when she called him that.


	20. The Art of Communication

Cautiously, Godric led the way out of the basement, his hand holding onto Eira's tightly; almost as if he were afraid of her letting go of him and disappearing from his side. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't the least bit hesitant to leave the safety of the church's underground. For all he knew (and he knew very well), the whole congregation could (and surely would) be waiting for them with stakes and silver, and a whole force of armed humans against two vampires… Well, Godric was not delusional—he knew that he'd be beat, despite his age and skill—but better him than Eira. He could not allow Eira to perish alongside him if it came to a fight.

The death of a child was a painful experience, and thankfully, Godric had never experienced such a traumatic event personally. He had heard stories from other vampires, of how their chest felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly when they lost their progeny, of a sudden emptiness in their whole being when that bond was broken. With Eira being more than just his child, his progeny, Godric knew he wouldn't be able to keep his composure should anything happen to her—he loved her too much to let her death go without avenging, despite his fight for peace.

Eira wasn't dead yet though, and God forbid that Godric lost her before he was ready to let her go... which would never happen, letting her go that is, because he was too attached to her to just release her. His hope for coexisting with the humans would just go out the window if anything happened to his dearest love. Therefore, he took to being secretive, hiding behind pillars, staying out of sight and keeping to the shadows, away from the main atrium of the sanctuary where everyone was gathered, all so Eira was kept safely behind him and out of the line of fire.

He took her up a flight of stairs and to the balcony that overlooked the sanctuary, hiding behind the support beams so that those below wouldn't notice them. From there he and Eira watched the scene playing before them from down below—of Eric's body displayed out on an altar at the end of the aisle, strapped down and kept from escaping by thick, heavy silver chains thrown across his body, burning him.

Reverend Newlin stood only feet away from Eric's prone body, preaching to his armed congregation; spitting insults at Sookie, who was held in place by two burly men.

It was obvious that the two had not been able to escape.

Eira watched in muted horror as her brother groaned in pain, his eyes shutting tightly as his head lolled to the side. The silver went across the exposed skin of his neck and wrists, melting his skin. From her place up top in the balcony, Eira could nearly smell the burning flesh of her brother. Her sharp eyes picked out all the little details of his injuries, like the blackened skin, the raw tissue, and the dots of white, which were bone and cartilage that were beginning to peak out from the burned muscles as the silver chains pressed down of their own accord.

Anger deep within Eira stirred, causing her grip on Godric's hand to tighten to the point of nearly breaking bones. Godric was wrong, it seemed—these humans were nothing but savages. How he could want peace between them and all other vampires was beyond her; it would never happen. Not with people like Reverend Steve Newlin filling up his follower's heads with misconceptions and nothing but hate—that man did not deserve to live.

Taking a step forward, ready to jump out from behind the support beams and down to the first level of the church, Eira was held back by Godric's hand squeezing her's, pulling her back so that he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He ignored her defiant growl and rested his chin on her shoulder, kissing her temple, letting his hands rub calming circles on her stomach.

"We must wait," he spoke into her ear calmly, a hint of guilt in his tone.

"But Eric—"

"I am aware of what they are doing to him," he said quickly, his voice softening as he muttered, "I can feel his pain."

"Then why are we not doing anything about it?" asked Eira in a harsh whisper.

"I would like to give the humans a chance," said Godric simply, "to do the right thing."

"How can you be so trusting," asked Eira in a pained voice. "They could kill my brother without a moment's hesitation."

"But they haven't," pointed out Godric gently, kissing Eira's cheek. "We need to set an example—we must give them a chance to redeem themselves, to make the right choice. I will admit that when I found out they had intended for you to be the vampire that met the sun, I wanted nothing more than to rip them to pieces, but what good would that have done for us? It would have only instilled fear and hate, and all chances for a peaceful coexistence would vanish. We would be at war, Eir."

"I'm so conflicted," admitted Eira, turning her head sideways so that her lips were mere centimeters away from Godric's lips, "I want to kill them—I want to hurt them in unimaginable ways for causing me so much pain, but I refrain from letting my instincts take over because I know that it would not be what you would want. You want peace between our species, and I want that too, but can we _really_ live peacefully? Suppose that we stop killing them for food or whatever, but what's stopping them from ending _our_ lives? They will **always** hate us, no matter what we do."

A sigh left Godric's lips, and he closed the gap between his and Eira's lips, kissing her tenderly, trying to offer her comfort and relief with that single action. She made a valid point—there would always be hate, and fear of the unknown. Humans were natural prey for vampires, but that did not mean that instincts and the ancient ways couldn't be changed. There were humans who enjoyed the company of vampires, who tolerated them, who treated them equally despite the obvious superiority of the undead… but sadly, there would always be those who would protest. That did not mean that Godric was about to give up his campaign for peace between his kind and the humans, but seeing Eira torn between wanting to kill them, and wanting to leave them alone and coexist as equals, made him hesitant.

Godric wanted a change, he wanted harmony between the two races, but when would that happen? It would not happen in a matter of days, of that he was sure; he could only hope that it would happen eventually.

The fact that Eira hadn't killed anyone yet made Godric love her even more, and his chest swelled up with pride at the obvious effort she was making. She was struggling with his ideals, but she was restraining herself from lashing out, and was making the effort to give the humans the benefit of the doubt.

Eira had never been overtly fond of humans, but she never caused them harm unless she was provoked. She was the type to intimidate, lie, yell, and scream, going for a verbal attack, and only resorting to using physical force if she felt threatened. She tried to avoid interacting with the humans as much as possible, preferring to observe them from afar, and only up-close when it was time to feed. She was not like Eric, who enjoyed playing with his food, nor did she like to torture just for the fun of it.

Godric supposed that Eira's aversion to humans (or even vampires) had to do with her experience with the werewolves, of being defiled in every way imaginable by a group of strange men. She did not like being near people (dead or living), and did not trust easily. She was weary of men and did everything in her power to avoid being caught in a large crowd. She ignored the humans for the most part, letting them live their lives so long as they left her alone.

Eira had come a long way from the scared little girl that Godric had stumbled upon on that dreary winter's night, but such a traumatic experience had a way of staying with her even 'til this day...

"You have suffered so much," said Godric thoughtfully, looking down at Eira, "and yet you try, even if it is only to appease me. Why is that? You could have killed hundreds upon my disappearance, and yet you have harmed none."

"I was close to losing control," admitted Eira, looking away from Godric shamefully, "I threatened Isabel with the True Death, I screamed and pouted like a child—my bloodlust was high, and I nearly did it: I was close to running into this church and killing everyone, regardless of age and sex, but I knew, deep down, that it was not right. If I were to kill an entire town just to get you back, it would have caused a scene. Our image as monsters would only be intensified, and I would be putting billions of our kind in danger. I could not risk that… even though your arms are the only thing keeping me from flying down this balcony and slaughtering that whole congregation."

"You're contradictions are endearing," said Godric teasingly, lifting up a hand to cup Eira's cheek, turning her head so she looked at him, "and I commend you for being so strong willed despite the fact that you were crumbling. I could feel your pain when I was parted from you—I could feel your sorrow, and rage, and panic. I wanted nothing more than to take it all back, to break out and come after you and take you away from it all, but they would only follow us—"

"They will _always_ follow us," said Eira with a frown. "No matter how far we go there will always be those few who do not agree with us, who will discriminate us only because our nature is unknown to them."

"That is why we must try for peace, why we must take a step towards a better future," said Godric. "It will take time, but it is not impossible, and we have all the time in the world to see to it that future generations do not have to deal with this blind hate between the races."

"… I trust you," Eira hesitated to say, looking up at Godric with raw emotion in her eyes, "I will not lie and say that your wish for a peaceful coexistence will be easy to achieve, but I trust you."

"I will keep you safe," promised Godric, turning Eira in his arms so that they were chest to chest, "I will love you until the end of my days and beyond that, and if vampires and humans—if that is not possible, then I cannot say that I didn't try. But I promise you, despite what happens, know that I love you and will keep you safe."

Eira nodded, going on her tiptoes to brush her lips against Godric's lips, saying softly, "I will love you and keep you safe as well. Just do not leave me, not again."

"Never."

* * *

"You see?" spoke Reverend Newlin to the congregation, gesturing a hand towards Eric. "Just as our Lord and Savior was betrayed for thirty pieces of silver, a few ounces of silver can betray a child of Satan to the world!"

"That doesn't make any sense, "said Sookie in disbelief, fighting against the men holding her still. Throwing a look over her shoulder at the assembled congregation, she shouted, "How can you people listen to him?"

No one answered Sookie—no one dared to move. The men and women wielding silver chains and wooden stakes stared blankly at her, their hands wrapped tightly around their weapons with hints of apprehension. One vampire stood before them, but another remained somewhere within the church—the little blonde female with the freakish power of moving things without touching them. More were outside, the people of the congregation knew that the vampires would bring an army, but they had men and women too—_Soldiers of the Sun_, they called themselves. However, were they enough to take down a horde of vampires? They would have to get to praying, it seemed.

Quietly, a groan sounded from behind Reverend Newlin—Eric was trying to sit up, but the silver chains strewn across his body prevented him from doing so. It did not prevent him, however, from speaking, and so he said with a raw throat, rasping, "I offer myself in exchange for Godric and Eira's freedom—and the girl's as well."

"That's noble," said Reverend Newlin with a scoff, not even bothering to glance back at Eric as his sights settled on Sookie, "but she's just as culpable as you are. She's a traitor to her race—the _human_ race. She hardly deserves our mercy. Maybe we should tie her to you so you can meet the sun together. I hope this marshmallow will roast up nicely…"

The doors to the sanctuary suddenly burst open, and in strode in Bill Compton, followed by a rather wary looking Isabel. Upon seeing Sookie, Bill ran forward, but stopped abruptly as the Reverend did something unthinkable.

He had pulled out a gun from the waistband of his pants.

"SOOKIE!" screamed Bill, eyes wide and filling with fear as he watched his human being held at gunpoint.

"One more step, vampire," threatened Reverend Newlin, taking a few steps towards Sookie, the barrel of his gun pointed directly at her face, "and the girl dies."

Before Bill could do anything to try to save his beloved, a click rang out through the church—only audible to the vampires present. All eyes went to Reverend Newlin as he suddenly dropped his gun, pulling his hand into his chest and cradling it against him, moaning in pain.

Something, or rather—_someone_, had just shot him in the hand. There was a green splotch of paint on the reverend's limb, paint that could have only come from a paintball gun.

"Let her go, fuckwad!" shouted a male voice, followed by another click, which resulted in a green splotch of paint on the reverend's forehead. From out of the shadows stepped a blond male, glaring daggers as he raised up his paintball gun.

Reverend Newlin gasped in pain and keeled over, his hands shooting up to his head—it was all the distraction needed for the next few moments to pass on in a blur.

Bill suddenly appeared in front of Sookie, throwing off the two men holding her. Quickly he grabbed the discarded gun and twisted it in his hands, dropping it back on the ground after it resembled a chewed up piece of gum.

Now free, Sookie quickly ran to Eric, grabbing the silver chains in her hands and throwing them off his body.

In seconds, Eric was free, and holding up Reverend Newlin by the throat. He had his fangs out and the meanest scowl he could muster, and just as he was about to bite down on the man's neck with every intention of draining him dry, Sookie screamed, telling him to stop.

"Don't kill him!"

However, not everyone agreed with her words.

"Kill him!" screamed the blond man holding up the paintball gun, "kill the motherfucker!"

"Go head," said Reverend Newlin, staring Eric directly in the eyes, a manic smile on his face. "Murder us. Murder us before God. We are willing to die…"

* * *

A horrified gasp left Eira's lips, and she felt Godric tighten his arms around her just the slightest bit.

"I cannot believe this," Godric said quietly, disappointment tinting his tone, "those lives are not his to sacrifice."

"Nor are our lives, and yet that did not stop him from trying," said Eira gently, shaking her head. "That man is not a God to decided who lives and who—"

She was interrupted by the sound of doors opening again, and a very familiar voice exclaiming venomously, "Steve Newlin!"

Stan and the other Dallas vampires had arrived, and that was definitely not in any of Eira's plans.

"You have pushed us too far!" continued Stan, standing at the center of his group of followers. "You expect us to sit on our thumbs while you round up your men to come lynch us? Well, we'll kill you first, same way we did your father."

Eira and Godric both looked at each other, Eira's eyes wide with disbelief, and Godric's face a pensive mask. That could not be right—Reverend Newlin Sr., along with his wife and daughter, were killed in a car accident a few months earlier. Their deaths had not been the cause of vampires… or had they?

"Stan killed them?" asked Eira in a whisper, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion and distress.

"Stan killed them," said Godric resolutely, his face turning into a hardened mask, "and staged it to look like a car accident."

"This…" Eira was at a loss for words.

"This will be a setback," muttered Godric thoughtfully. "With the truth of the elder Newlin's deaths now out, we can only hope for—"

"Destroy them," hissed Stan, a smirk on his lips, "all of them."

Vampires immediately began darting around the room, taking the humans by surprise.

Godric glared, unwrapping his arms from around Eira and stepping towards the railing. With a swift jump, he stood atop the banister, perfectly balanced, and in plain sight.

"Enough!" he yelled loudly, the word dripping with command and the promise of a threat.

Everyone in the vicinity stilled.

Eira watched as Godric gracefully jumped down to land atop the altar, stepping down from there and walking towards the reverend, which Eric had yet to release from his hold.

"Eira, come," said Godric, his tone a command more than a request.

Eira appeared at his side in seconds.

"Deal with that," he said simply, gesturing to her brother, before he turned to face Stan.

"Eric, drop him," said Eira firmly.

Eric glared at his sister.

"Your maker commanded no bloodshed," she hissed, "and it would be best if you followed his orders."

Begrudgingly, Eric let Reverend Newlin drop to the ground roughly, retracting his fangs.

"Thank you," said Eira, receiving a stiff nod, "now come."

Together, the siblings walked to Godric, standing on either side of him, the revered laying on the floor behind them, shortly forgotten.

"You came for me, I assume," asked Godric, talking to Stan, who he didn't even spare a glance at.

"Yes, Sheriff," said Stan obediently, knowing that now was not the time to step out of line, lest he get his head cut off.

However, it appeared that he was going to get his head cut off anyways, metaphorically of course.

"You are an idiot!" exploded Eira, hands balling up into tight fists. "You were not asked to participate in this!"

"My Sheriff was in danger," said Stan gruffly, "so I came to retrieve him."

"Well, as you can see, he is no danger right now," said Eira haughtily.

"These insignificant ants would have done—"

"They did nothing!" yelled Eira, taking a step forwards. "They did not torture him, or anything like that—this proves that we can coexist!"

"I highly doubt that," said Stan darkly.

"Of course we cannot achieve anything if you demand they all be killed!" yelled Eira, reprimanding. "We need to be the ones to set an example! I admit that I want to kill them all for what they've done, but that would do us more harm than good. We need to be the ones to try for a better future—for _their_ sake!"

Everyone stared at Eira blankly, some shocked and unbelieving at what she'd just said, and others, like Godric and Isabel, staring at her with pride. She was struggling with her nature, but she was _trying_, and that was all that they needed, wasn't it? For one of them to try to mend the broken fences, to take that first step…

"You see, Mr. Newlin," said Godric, looking down at the reverend, who still lay on the ground, cradling his hand and rubbing his forehead, "we can try. I do not wish to create bloodshed when none is called for—help me set an example. If we leave you in peace, will you do the same?"

"I will not negotiate with sub-humans!" exclaimed the reverend indignantly. "Kill me!"

"No," said Eira darkly, taking a step towards him. "What would killing you prove—that we are the villains? You are lucky that we have not made this whole ordeal known to the public—what would people think once they learn that you have stalked us, hunted us down, ripped us away from our _families, _and threatened us with death. We have done you no wrong, not me nor Godric, so why do you feel the need to target us personally? I do not attack unless I am provoked, and you have provoked me, yet I've not killed you or your wife—what does that say about us? About _you_?"

"Just kill me!" yelled the reverend. "Do it. Jesus will protect me."

"I am actually older than your Jesus," said Godric with a little, smug smile, "I wish I could have known him, but I missed it."

The reverend stared at him incredulously.

"We were humans once," said Eira softly, a faraway look in her eyes, "and you've no idea how much we have suffered at the hands of man—of the _human_ race, the race you deem so superior and pure. Are you that much of a hypocrite? Not all of us were turned into what we are today because we wanted to… not all of us had the _choice_ to live."

The reverend did not grace Eira with an answer, but the burning glare in his eyes told Eira that her words had no effect on him. He could care less.

"Good people," said Godric loudly, turning to look at the congregation, "who of you is willing to die for this man's madness?"

No one move, nor said anything.

"That's what I thought," said Godric complacently. "Stand down, everyone—" he gave Stan a look "—People, go home… it's over now."

"Oh, thank God," Sookie was the first to exclaim, cuddling against Bill's chest.

"Thank _God_ indeed," muttered Eric darkly, crossing his arms.

"Blasphemy, Eric," said Eira teasingly, a genuine smile on her lips, which made Eric's dark glower soften. "You cannot use the Lord's name in vain."

"Oh, of course," said Eric sarcastically, a grin on his lips, "how could I have ever forgotten about that?"

Eira shrugged, a smile twinkling in her eyes. Now with everything over, with things finally getting back to normal, she could allow herself to smile, to joke—to be herself. She did not have the worry and anguish of Godric's disappearance looming over her, and she was anxious to get back to how life used to be, with the addition of Eric, and hopefully Pam.

"Let us go back to the nest," said Godric with a small smile, having heard the exchange between brother and sister. "I do believe that we all could—"

An incoherent, violent scream bubbled up from behind the trio, and the next thing Eira knew, she was being pushed into Eric's arms while Godric hissed.

Confused, Eira looked up at her brother, whose arms were protectively wrapped around her. She stared at Eric for a moment, searching his face for an answer to what had just happened, though he betrayed nothing but unadulterated anger burning in his eyes. Deciding to look over her shoulder, Eira's eyes went wide as she saw Godric pinning Reverend Newlin to the ground, fangs bared and a look of pure hate in his green-blue orbs.

All movement in the room seemed to stop in that very instance. Some humans gasped, while some vampires hissed threateningly at the reverend. Even though they did not like their Sheriff's beliefs, he was still their Sheriff, and they had his back no matter what.

Eira untangled herself from her brother and stared at the reverend, which in his hand was holding onto a small, wooden crucifix.

He had planned on staking Eira with it, but Godric had been quicker.

"How _dare_ you," hissed Godric, leaning down into the reverend's face, "after everything that we tried to—"

"Godric," said Eira gently, cautiously walking up to Godric, placing a hand on his back, "he's not worth it. Think about everything that you've tired to—"

"He tried to _stake_ you," muttered Godric darkly, but nonetheless, he eased off the reverend's prone form, finding comfort in Eira's light touch.

"And you stopped him," said Eira softly. "I am fine—let us just go back to the nest, **please**."

For a moment, all was silent. Godric remained crouched over the still form of Steve Newlin, his hands pinning the reverend's wrists into the ground. Quickly he snatched up the crucifix, throwing it across the room and getting to his feet in one graceful movement. With one last glare at the crumpled human, he walked up to Eira, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and openly nuzzling her neck, breathing in her scent to quell his anger.

Vampires and humans alike stared in awe at the couple.

Eira and Godric were not known for such public displays of affection, preferring to keep their love and caresses behind closed doors, but in instances such as this, they threw caution to the wind and went all out, the need to make sure the other was safe far outweighing the need for privacy.

"It's alright, Godric," Eira said tenderly, "I'm alright. Nothing happened. Let's just go."

Nodding into her neck, Godric placed a loving kiss underneath her ear before pulling back.

"I daresay," he nearly spat, turning to glare down at the reverend, "I do believe you owe my Eira a thank you."

"Hah!" laughed Revered Newlin sarcastically, sitting up as if a vampire hadn't pinned him down moments ago, "I will never bow down to you filthy spawns of Satan!"

"I did not ask you to bow down to us," said Godric smartly, a glare set in his eyes, "I only asked that you express gratitude towards my mate—she is the only reason why you are still alive."

Steve Newlin glared.

"C'mon Godric," said Eira into his ear, "We no longer have any business here."

"How right you are," agreed Godric, leading her away from Steve Newlin with a guiding hand on the small of her back.

Meanwhile, Eric followed his maker and sister out of the church, an amused look crossing his eyes despite everything that had happened that night.

His maker was pussy-whipped—who would have thought…?


	21. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

A rush of emotions assaulted Eira the moment she set foot into her and Godric's bedroom back at the nest. Tears cascaded down her cheeks—big, fat droplets of blood that clung to her long lashes, thickly rolling down her skin, tucking underneath her chin and pooling there until they grew so heavy that they dropped onto her chest, staining her blouse red. The past few weeks flew by in a blur of color and sound across her thoughts, bringing back all the heartache, distress, pain, hurt, rage, and anxiety that Eira had felt during the time that Godric's whereabouts were unknown.

She had felt so helpless, so lost and confused—but it was all over now. Godric was safe—standing behind her, actually—and yet Eira could not stop her tears from falling. The weight on her shoulders was gone, she no longer had to fear for her lover's safety—and yet she still cried. She supposed that she deserved a good cry now that things were back on track, (that her tears were actually happy tears because it was all over now), yet why did she feel like she was drowning underneath an ocean of hurt?

_I almost lost him_, thought Eira, taking a seat at the foot of their bed, Godric silently following, _he kept things from me… he neglected to tell me his plans—and for what? For weeks on end of brutal, mental torture, imagining scenarios of his possible death… I could have been informed—__**we**__ could have worked this out together!_

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, and looking up at the ceiling to avoid catching Godric's worried gaze, "I could have helped. I don't know how, but I could have. We could have done this together—figured out how to make things work. However, no—you just disappeared one night without so much as a note or a text or _something_… I was so _worried_, Godric. If I had known what was going on since the very beginning… If you had just _told_ me…"

Tentatively, Godric placed a hand on Eira's knee, knowing that she needed comfort, and that was when the sobs broke free from Eira's chest. That single touch made everything real.

She sobbed loudly, shoulders shaking, gasping for a breath she did not need, and Godric wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close, resting his cheek on her head as Eira curled up against his chest.

It pained Godric to see Eira so broken, to see tears streaming down her face when he was what caused them, but he'd done it all to protect her. If he had not of left with the Fellowship of the Sun, then Eira would have met the True Death. He had not had time to leave her, or _anyone_, a note explaining his sudden disappearance. He'd only thought of Eira, of her smile, her touch, the way she crinkled her nose when something displeased her, and he hadn't thought anymore, only acted. He knew that he would have to offer himself for her sake, so that she remained untouched, and he had done so without looking back.

Thoughts of Eira were what kept him sane down in the basement of the church. He hadn't even thought about himself in her life, only about her, and how she could not leave this world, not yet.

Godric did not regret his actions. If his death could save Eira of a similar fate, if his death could somehow prove that humans and vampires were able to coexist peacefully, then it would have been worth it. All for Eira, so that she had something to look forward to in years to come, so that life could be made easier for her and their kin.

Too bad things turned out the way they did. Steve Newlin refused to see reason, and there was nothing Godric could do to change that man's opinion on how he looked at the world. It was commendable how strongly Reverend Newlin believed in something, but his way of doing things was not.

"I am sorry," said Godric softly, his arms tightening around Eira as the last tears trickled down her cheeks, "but I do not lament over what I have done. I did it for you, and I admit that things could have gone differently, but they did not, and I have no power over that."

"Did you," Eira sniffled, pulling away from Godric to look into his eyes, "did you go to them? Or did they come to you?"

"Isabel showed you the photographs, correct?" he asked instead, receiving a nod. Calmly he spoke, "I received the photographs a few days before I… _went away_. It was easy to deduce what they wanted—a vampire to meet the sun, or more specifically, you. I do not know how, but they figured out that I am important to the other vampires of this area; my title as Sheriff remains unknown to them, but they knew that I had control over the others. By targeting you, they thought that they could control me, and by controlling me, they could get to the others. It was a smart plan, I'll admit, though poorly executed."

Eira remained silent, clinging onto Godric, and Godric took her silence as the go-ahead to continue.

"Unbeknownst to either Isabel or Stan," he said softly, stroking Eira's hair, "I went to the Fellowship personally, offering to take your place. They agreed, deciding to overlook you because they finally had what they wanted—which was I.

"I realize that I should have left you some kind of note, that it would have eased your pain knowing what was going on, but if you were to know where I was and what my intentions were, I was afraid that you would have done the unthinkable.

"My actions were rash, but the only thing I had on my mind at the time was getting their attention away from you. I would rather meet the sun a thousand times over then have any harm come to you, Eir. Please, believe that my intentions were all with you in mind, that I did not do it to intentionally hurt you…"

Eira was at a loss for words. She was angry that Godric did not trust her enough to tell her what was going on, but at the same time she was engulfed by the feelings of being loved, of being cherished and protected. Godric was more than willing to meet the sun in her place, to end his existence just for her, and that only made Eira realize what kind of person Godric had become, and just how much he loved her.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Eira pushed away from Godric, disentangling herself from his arms and getting to her feet. She began to pace the room then, taking slow steps while running a hand through her hair. The blood on her cheeks was beginning to dry, giving her skin a tight feeling.

_Gods, I love him so much_, she thought, _but he can be so damn stupid at times. Did he not realize that if he were to die I would have followed him? That it would have all been for naught._

"What you did," Eira began softly, walking up to Godric, "I will never be able to express how much it means to me, that you were willing to die for me. You… you have such a big heart, and I will always love you above all else—but you're an **_idiot_**, Godric!"

Godric quirked up an eyebrow in question, tilting his head to the side as he watched Eira's demeanor change.

"I would have killed myself if something had happened to you!" she exclaimed, hands balled up into tight fists at her sides, "I nearly did it to—"

In the next second, Godric had Eira pushed against the wall, glaring down at her as his hands tightly wrapped around her shoulders.

"What did you do?" he demanded, his voice a deadly whisper in Eira's ear. "Do not tell me you actually—"

"I nearly staked myself," said Eira, her eyes softening and turning shameful.

"Why would you consider such a thing?" asked Godric, a hint of hurt in his tone.

"You were gone," said Eira remorsefully, turning her head to the side to avoid his gaze, "and I… I could not stand the thought of living without you. I love you too much…"

A shuddering breath left Godric, and he quickly pulled Eira into his arms, allowing her to cry silently in his chest. His eyes were wide, his face expressionless, but millions of thoughts ran thought his head as he tried to picture Eira ending her existence—he couldn't picture it. He could not imagine a world without his Eira.

He **_was_** an idiot. He had not even thought that Eira would be willing to end her life for him just as he would end it for her.

"What stopped you," he asked gently, almost as if he were afraid to learn her answer.

"My engagement ring," said Eira quietly. "You made me a promise—"

"—and I fully intend to keep it," said Godric quickly, pulling away and holding Eira at arm's length so he could look at her, "I swear to you, Eir. If you want us to wed tonight then—"

"No," Eira stopped Godric, a small, sad smile curling her lips, "I don't want us to rush into our wedding, but you promised me that it would happen. Getting yourself killed would have broken that promise."

"I was not thinking," admitted Godric, pulling Eira back into his arms, pressing her up against him so he could feel every curve of her body, afraid of letting her go.

"You never think," commented Eira lightly, wrapping her arms around his neck, "you're impulsive, and I like that about you—it keeps things interesting… but I sincerely hope that you will not be making things interesting anytime soon. I don't think I'd be able to handle anything interesting after tonight. Give me a few days before you surprise me."

"No more surprises," promised Godric, placing a loving kiss on Eira's forehead. "You won't try and—"

"So long as you do not leave me," said Eira, gazing into Godric's eyes. "You know that I would follow you to the ends of the earth, and if you decide to leave this earth, then I will be by your side."

"But you can't—"

"I can and I will," said Eira softly, "I love you **_that_** much, Godric."

Godric shut his eyes tightly, feeling the bothersome stinging of tears slowly creeping into the backs of his eyes. What if Eira had gone through with it? What if she had actually killed herself? What then? So many questions filled Godric's mind, but he quickly pushed them away. He would not think about that, not now, but a close eye on Eira he would keep.

"I love you so much," he said softly, opening his eyes and gazing down at Eira, "do not scare me like that again."

"You're one to talk," said Eira with a small smile. "C'mon, let's take a quick shower before the others begin arriving."

"We still have much to discuss," said Godric, giving Eira a look.

"I know that," said Eira with a smirk, "I just hope that we can continue it in the shower—you know, multitasking?"

Godric smiled, swooped down, and marched to the bathroom with Eira in his arms.

* * *

The nest was in the middle of a "_Welcome Back_" party when Eira and Godric entered the living room. The air between them was calm now, all their thoughts and emotions having been taken out on the other in the shower. In between kisses and caresses, they talked about the past few weeks and about their expectations for the future. They showed each other just how much they loved one another, with their softly spoken words and feather-light touches; Godric reassuring Eira that he would never leave her, and Eira reassuring Godric that she would never think about ending her existence so long as he doesn't do anything stupid.

There was nothing to say between Godric and Eira anymore, and they dearly hoped that after tonight they could leave everything in the past and move on. They had a wedding to look forward to, after all.

It was time for a clean slate.

Sitting beside Godric in a quiet corner of the living room, Eira remained silent as vampires and humans came up to her lover to offer their thanks and relief on having him back at the nest, safe and sound. When Stan approached Godric, it took every fiber in Eira's being to keep her mouth shut, but she managed, only scoffing when Stan said that he was relieved to have his Sheriff back.

Amongst the humans, there was the blond man from the church, the one who had shot twice at Steve Newlin with a paintball gun. He was nervous, looking out of place in a house full of vampires and their human companions, but Eira saw that his intentions were true, that as he told Godric, "_I just want to say I'm real sorry for what the Fellowship put you through_," he was not telling a lie. As it turned out, the human was Sookie's brother—Jason Stackhouse. Upon learning this, Eira shook her head and clicked her tongue softly to herself. That boy held so much promise, but he would have to get off the **_V_** first to go anywhere.

"What was he doing in the church anyways?" asked Eira softly, leaning into Godric's ear so others would not hear her.

"From what I've heard," said Godric airily, letting his eyes roam the room to let Eira silently know that he had literally _heard_ something, "he joined the Fellowship on his own accord, but their ideals could not break his morals. His sister was in danger, and so he dropped everything to aid her—it appears that Eric's got a hold of him now."

Eira followed Godric's eyes, and spotted her older brother talking quietly to the male Stackhouse.

"Hail the conquering hero," said Eric with a teasing grin, leaning against the wall casually.

"Oh no," said Jason bashfully, "I'm no hero."

"Well, you are in this town, but in my area," said Eric, his eyes darkening, "we know you as a buyer and user of vampire blood. That's a very grave offense."

"Yeah, listen," said Jason quickly, growing anxious, "I don't do that anymore."

Eira could tell that he was not lying.

"All things considered, however, we'll call it even," said Eric, giving Jason a sharp look. "You won't be doing it again."

"No," said Jason, and then quickly shook his head, "I mean yes—I mean… fuck. No more, got it."

"Good boy," said Eric, a smirk on his lips, "now run along."

Jason disappeared into the crowd of people quicker than Eira thought possible for a human. It made her laugh quietly.

"I like him," decided Eira, "he's got something innocent about him. It's refreshing."

"Don't confuse innocence with dimwittedness," warned Godric, a small smile on his lips.

Eira rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

Just then, Isabel entered the room, dragging behind her a distressed looking Hugo by the collar of his shirt. She had tears in her eyes that she refused to let fall, and as she dumped Hugo at Eira and Godric's feet, she squared her shoulders and let her eyes harden, allowing a mask to overcome her pained expression.

Eira could see that this was killing Isabel, and it made her sad to know that there was nothing she could do to offer her friend comfort; whether Godric ordered death or freedom on Hugo's head, it would not make the fact that Hugo was a traitor disappear. He had betrayed everyone in the nest, but it would not hurt them as much as it would hurt Isabel.

"This is the one who betrayed us," announced Isabel strongly, making all eyes turn to her as the noise level in the room hushed.

"Hugo. He's your human," said Godric absentmindedly, leaning forward in his seat to study Hugo's scared face.

"Yes, he is," admitted Isabel, almost hesitantly, the edges of her eyes softening.

"Do you love him?" asked Godric next, surprising everyone in the room.

"I… I thought I did," said Isabel weakly, her hands balling up into fists.

"It appears you love him still," said Godric thoughtfully, looking away from Hugo and up to Isabel.

"I do," admitted Isabel on the verge of tears, her composure slowly breaking, "and I'm sorry for that, but you are my Sheriff. Do with him as you please."

Eira could tell that Isabel was trying to be strong, but she was still in love with the human, and her emotions were slowly taking over her façade. Never had Eira seen her friend so broken hearted.

"_What do you think_?" asked Godric in Gaulish so that the others would not understand him, turning to look at Eira.

"_I do not know_," replied Eira in the same language. "_He betrayed us, nearly ruined everything, gave my information to Sarah Newlin—I want him dead… but it would kill Isabel._"

"_Love makes you weak_," said Godric thoughtfully.

"_It is the weakness of all weaknesses_," agreed Eira, "_but it feels so nice_."

"_It does_," said Godric, giving Eira a soft smile, before turning to look down at Hugo, his face devoid of emotion. Calmly he spoke in English, "You are free to go."

"What?" exclaimed Stan, appearing at Isabel's side with a look of absolute bewilderment on his enraged face.

"The human is free to go," repeated Godric, giving Stan a look that told him to back down.

"And do not return," continued Eira, baring her fangs at Hugo to show how displeased she was with him, "I fear it is not safe for you here."

"This is a travesty!" exclaimed Stan, outraged.

"And what you did at the church wasn't?" asked Eira smartly, retracting her fangs and glaring at Stan. "Was ordering vampires to kill all humans not a travesty as well?"

Stan remained quiet, his glare doing all the talking for him. Eira merely shrugged her shoulders at him.

"Eric," called Godric, and Eric appeared at his side in seconds, "escort him out," he pointed to Hugo. "Make sure he leaves unharmed."

"Yes Godric," said Eric obediently, grabbing Hugo by the arm and marching out of the nest with him.

"Thank you," said Isabel with a gracious smile, "thank you, Sheriff, and you, Eira."

Godric simply nodded his head, dismissing Isabel with a single look. Eira smiled, saying gently, "think of it as my way of saying sorry for all I've put you through these past few days."

"I am in debt to you," said Isabel softly, smiling down at Eira before turning to walk away.

A moment later, Eric returned alone, an annoyed look in his eyes. Eira knew that he was bothered with Godric's verdict, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it. In Area 9, Godric's word was law, and Eric had no voice in the matter.

"Hugo's been dispatched," he announced as he took a seat on the other side of Eira, "I told him to not stop driving until he reached the Mexican border—"

"You mean you glamoured him," said Eira smartly, receiving a casual nod from her brother.

"I've arranged for an AB-negative human for the both of you," continued Eric, "Extremely rare. You'll like it."

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," said Godric simply.

"You already know how I feel about your human donors," said Eira, giving her brother a look.

Sighing, Eric told his sister, "The last time you fed was at Fangtasia, am I right?"

"We have packets of donated human blood here," said Eira delicately, "I've had a couple of those."

Eric chose to ignore her.

"Did you know that she's been practically starving herself since you were taken?" he told Godric, who quirked an interested eyebrow at Eira. Now this was something that she had failed to mention in the shower.

"I did not _starve_ myself," said Eira through gritted teeth. "There is a difference between not being hungry and not wanting to feed. I was simply not hungry."

"I doubt that," said Eric with a glare, and then turned to look at Godric, saying, "and you. I doubt the Fellowship had anything to offer."

"As I said before," said Godric, giving Eric a look that said to drop the subject, "I am not hungry."

Knowing he was beat, Eric rose up his hands in defeat before he walked off, leaving Godric to round on Eira.

"You have not fed—"

"I lost my appetite," said Eira pointedly. "I had something here and there, and I am conscious that it was not nearly enough to keep me sane, but I did not completely refuse to feed."

"If you want something—"

"I am fine," stressed Eira, reaching out to grab Godric's hand, giving him a gentle smile, "I'm not hungry right now, but if it will make you feel better, I'll feed once everyone goes home."

Satisfied with her answer, Godric nodded to himself, squeezing Eira's hand.

Eira could tell that Godric was still worried about her, and so she began talking about their upcoming wedding, all to keep Godric's mind away from bothersome thoughts of her not feeding enough. So far, nothing was set in stone; they did not have a date, nor a place, and the guest list only had five people as of yet (Isabel, Romina, Nora, Pam, and Eric), but talking things out with Godric was an experience for Eira. He was very meticulous in what he wanted—something small and intimate, private, with Eira in a white flowing gown and wild flowers in her hair. He wanted things to be perfect that night, and Eira was just fine with that, so long as she was known as Mrs. Godric by dawn—

That was another thing they needed to talk about…

"Will you be going by my surname?" asked Eira softly. "Or would I have to drop my own?"

Godric made a face.

"Well, what do you propose we do?" asked Eira, slightly impatient. "You have no last name."

"I've been going by your surname for a long time, Eir," said Godric simply, "how do you suppose I was able to get a credit card?"

"Well, I mean—"

"Northman will have to do," said Godric, "although you will have to change your status to _Mrs_."

A soft chuckle left Eira's lips as she said, "Let's hope no one confuses me for Eric's wife."

"That would be wrong," said Godric with a look of disgust on his face.

"You know," pondered Eira teasingly, "since you are his maker, and I am with you, would that not make me his mother—in a way?"

"Eir," said Godric seriously.

"Yes, Gizmo?"

"Shut up."

Eira grinned, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing loudly. Just as she was about to come back with a witty retort that she was sure would get an adorable rise out of Godric, a commotion broke out from across the living room, near the entrance to dining room. Both she and Godric leaned forwards in their seats, watching the fight break out between Sookie, Bill, and an unknown female vampire wearing a burnt orange evening gown.

"Should we interfere?" asked Eira curiously, watching as Sookie screamed at the female vampire.

"No," said Godric, "this looks to be only a verbal—"

The female vampire lunged, grabbing Sookie and pinning her down. In seconds, she had her fangs out and was poised to strike, only to be pulled away roughly from Sookie by a firm hand to the throat.

"Retract… your… fangs," hissed Godric slowly, lowering his hand and making the female vampire kneel at his feet.

The female vampire retracted her fangs with a click, struggling with the hand holding her by the throat.

"Now," continued Godric, "I neither know nor care who you are, but in this area, and _certainly_ in this nest, I am the authority. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sheriff," the female vampire said stiffly, glancing at Godric and then to Eira, who had come to stand at Godric's right hand side, making her position within the nest clear by that silent action—that she was Godric's second in command, and should Godric fail to deliver justice, she would deal with it accordingly.

"This human has proven herself to be a courageous and loyal friend to our kind, and yet you treat her like a child does a dragonfly—pulling wings for sport," said Godric quietly. "No wonder they hate us."

"She provoked me," said the female vampire, her eyes sharpening into a slight glare.

"And you provoked me," said Godric. "You disrupted the peace in my own home; I could snap you like a twig, yet I haven't. Now, why is that?"

"It's… your choice," said the female vampire slowly, almost begrudgingly.

"Indeed it is," said Godric with an air of superiority. "You're an old vampire, I can tell. You've had hundreds of years to better yourself, yet you haven't. You are still a savage, and I fear for all of us—humans and vampires—if this behavior persists."

"Bill," said Eira, looking at Bill and studying him clinically, "you seem to know her."

"Yes, Eira," admitted Bill with a nod, glancing at the female vampire with a look in his eyes that said he _more_ than knew her.

"Escort her from the nest," commanded Eira, receiving a nod from Godric.

"I wish you out of my area before dawn," said Godric quietly to the female vampire, releasing his hold on her neck.

Bill quickly approached the female vampire, grabbing her arm and leading her out of the nest. With that problem finally solved, Eira turned to look at Sookie, who had now gotten to her feet and was rubbing at her neck.

"Are you alright?" she asked curiously.

"I'm fine," said Sookie with a small smile, glancing at Godric for a brief moment before asking Eira, "How about you?"

"Better now, I'll admit," smiled Eira, grabbing Godric's hand. "I haven't thanked you properly for all the help you have been and I'd like to also apologize for being such a brat with you. I wasn't in my right mind; I hope you can forgive me."

"Done deal," said Sookie with a large smile.

"Do you know who that vampire was?" asked Godric next.

"Lorena," informed Sookie. "She's Bill's maker. Eric brought her here to try and ruin my relationship with Bill—didn't work out like he'd hoped, that's for sure."

"I apologize on behalf of my progeny," said Godric sincerely.

"Eric needs a new hobby," said Eira offhandedly, glancing at her brother from across the room, who simply winked back at her.

"Ya got that right," agreed Sookie.

Smiling at both Eira and Godric, she continued with, "If it isn't too bold of me to say, you two look simply adorable together."

Godric smirked, and Eira grinned bashfully.

A phone began ringing just then, and recognizing the ringtone, Godric pulled the phone out of his pocket, and handed it to Eira.

"I do believe it is Romina calling," he said simply.

Checking the caller ID, Eira nodded. Smiling apologetically at Sookie, she said, "Sorry to cut this conversation short, but duty calls. You'll be alright, won't you?"

"Yeah, I've got my brother here, so I'm alright."

With a nod, Eira and Godric walked away from Sookie, retreating to their quiet corner of the living room. The moment they sat down the party began once more, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. Smiling, Eira answered Godric's phone, saying teasingly, "Should I be worried that you're calling Godric instead of me?"

"I tried dialing your number, but you wouldn't pick up," answered Romina honestly.

Eira chuckled. She knew that Romina had once had a thing for Godric, and every opportunity she got, she teased her progeny about it.

"My phone is currently in the bedroom, charging," explained Eira.

"Well, how did things turn out? Isabel didn't get to tell me much."

"Things are great," said Eira with a dreamy smile, "everything is finally starting to—"

"Excuse me, everyone!" a voice shouted above all the chatter of vampires and humans, "If I could have your attention!"

"Mina, I'm going to have to call you back," said Eira distractedly, her eyes searching the crowd for the owner of the voice.

"What's going on?"

"No idea, but it appears that one of the human companions has something important to say."

"Call me back when you can, please," said Romina, before hanging up.

Handing the phone back to Godric, the couple watched as a boy stood at the entrance of the nest. He was very young, maybe out of his teens or in his early twenties, Eira could not be sure. He looked nervous, and kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, which instantly struck Eira as suspicious.

The large, bulky jacket that he also wore did nothing to ease Eira's suspicions that this boy was up to no good.

"My name is Luke McDonald," the boy began, "I'm a member of the Fellowship of the Sun—"

Eira quickly turned to look at Godric, her eyes wide.

"—and I have a message for you all from Reverend Steve Newlin."

Luke opened his jacket, revealing a bomb strapped to his chest coated in silver chains. Eira and Godric kept their eyes locked on each other, Eira reaching out with a shaky hand to grab Godric, but before she could even touch him, a loud, rumbling noise filled her senses, and everything turned black.

The last thing Eira heard was Godric screaming her name.


	22. As Your Maker

**Scandinavia | Winter, 891 AD**

Eira was laying prone, stiff as a board, with what felt like an immense weight pressing down on her body. Her mind was slowly coming to as if she'd just slept for days, and she could feel something encasing her, making her feel trapped. It was damp, grainy… She opened her eyes only to shut them tightly—she was covered in dirt. Opening her mouth to scream, Eira choked—she was _covered_ in dirt, literally underneath the earth. Quickly she began to panic, sluggishly moving her limbs, her fingers clawing at the earth all around her. She did not know what was happening or where she was, but her instincts told her to get out.

Climbing frantically, Eira kept her eyes and mouth both tightly shut to prevent the dirt from spilling in; not knowing if she was going up or down, left, or right. She followed her instincts, moving earth with clawed hands; kicking her legs and feeling the damp, runny dirt run through her toes.

She could feel the density of the dirt change all around her, becoming lighter, and soon enough she felt hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her upwards and into a chilly winter night.

The next thing Eira felt were arms crushing her against a chest, and a very familiar voice murmuring to her in Gaulish.

"Godric," said Eira hoarsely, coughing slightly. She blinked her eyes owlishly, looking all around her to see trees towering overhead. "I don't—what are you saying?"

The Gaulish murmurs stopped, only to be replayed with a disbelieving, innocent chuckle, making Eira turn around in the arms that were holding her. She stared up at Godric, seeing his face clearly despite the complete lack of light—and this she found was very odd.

Since when could she see in complete darkness?

However, it was not as odd as the fangs protruding from Godric's gums, and the fact that he—just like she—was covered in dirt, with remnants of old, dried up blood speckling his skin.

Had Godric been buried in the dirt, too? And what was with all that blood? Eira could smell it, it was foul... it reminded her of what a dog smelled like.

It didn't make any sense…

Fear gripped Eira as she stared at the elongated teeth glinting in the night, but with a single blink of her eyes, they were gone, and Eira found herself staring at a mouth full of perfectly blunt, perfectly _normal_ (albeit crooked), teeth.

"How do you keep doing that?" she asked in muted horror, her voice merely above a whisper.

"What?" asked Godric, feigning innocence, "this—"

His fangs were out once more, and Eira shrieked, pushing away from his arms and darting up a tree, all done in the span of two seconds.

Having realized this, Eira shrieked once more.

She was **not** supposed to move that fast!

In the blink of an eye, Godric stood down below the tree, his head tilted back to look up into the branches, an easy grin on his face as he caught Eira's eye. She was at the very top of the tree, probably a hundred feet off the ground, holding onto the trunk for dear life, her feet balanced on a thick branch.

What was happening?

"If I had known creating a progeny would be this amusing, I would have become a maker ages ago," said Godric in a whisper, but Eira heard him just fine despite the volume and distance between them.

That was not supposed to happen, her hearing... it wasn't supposed to be _that_ good.

"What… what have you done to me?" Eira demanded in a scared voice, her eyes going wide.

Godric was the reason for all this, she quickly concluded. She could see it in the proud look that sparkled in his eyes, and in the way that he carried himself—he'd done something to her, something that made her move faster, smell better, hear sharper... there was no moon out tonight, which meant that there was no light, and yet Eira could see everything clearly...

_What_ had Godric done to her?

"I gave you life," said Godric simply, his face turning serious.

"You…" Eira trailed off quietly, the previous nights events coming back to her, "I…"

"Come down, Eir," said Godric softly.

"You won't hurt me?" she asked quietly—skeptically—images of wolves and strange men dancing across her memory for a fleeting moment.

"Never," promised Godric, a vicious glint in his eyes that strangely enough, reassured Eira that he would _never_ hurt her.

Hesitantly Eira nodded, moving away from the trunk, teetering on the thick branch she stood on, only to yelp and go back to clinging onto the base of the tree.

"I don't know how to come down," admitted Eira, looking away from Godric shamefully.

"I thought as much," said Godric quietly to himself.

"How am I going to—" Eira stopped her sentence short, her eyes wide—Godric was in front of her, floating in the air before her.

That was definitely **_NOT_** supposed to happen!

"Eir," coaxed Godric gently, extending a hand for Eira to take, "grab my hand, please."

"You… you can fly?" asked Eira in disbelief, her mind going blank.

"Among other things, yes," said Godric casually, shrugging. "Take my hand, Eir."

Eira just kept staring at him.

"_Eira_," prompted Godric with an impatient sigh.

Slowly, Eira inched toward Godric, extending one arm towards him while the other remained wrapped around the tree trunk, just in case. She did not fancy falling hundreds of feet to her death, but it seemed that that was not the case tonight. As soon as her hand took hold of Godric's, his arms quickly followed, wrapping around her waist and bringing her close.

The next thing Eira knew were her feet meeting the ground.

"What… how?" asked Eira, confused. She looked up at the tree, then at Godric, then back up at the tree once more. "We were up there, and then I blinked, and now we're down here."

"I'm a fast flyer," said Godric with an indifferent shrug.

Eira stood still, staring at Godric in disbelief and a twinge of fear. She had always known that there was something off about him, but this… Never in any of her wildest dreams did she imagine him to be able to fly—or have large, pointy fangs…

"What _are_ you?" asked Eira softly, taking a step away from him.

"I am _you_," he said simply, confusing Eira.

"That doesn't make any—"

"Shh," hushed Godric quickly, holding up a hand to further silence Eira. He closed his eyes, his face devoid of emotion. Eira could tell he was listening for something, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when Godric disappeared from her sight, only to reappear before her a second later with a very naked man in his grasp.

Eira's eyes widened and she took a step back, a whimper escaping her lips as flashes of unfamiliar faces crossed her mind, all looming over her, laughing, causing her pain…

"He's one of them," she said softly, tears cascading down her cheeks, Godric's odd character forgotten. "He… he's one of _them_. The wolves…"

A predatory growl escaped Godric, and his fangs extended with a sharp click. Pinning the struggling man to the ground, Eira watched as Godric and the man began speaking in a language she did not understand, but soon words failed them both, and Godric viciously bit into the man's neck, causing a terrifying scream to echo into the night. Eira dropped to the ground, her hands quickly going up to her ears to block out all sound. Her ears were suddenly sensitive, and the shrill screams from the man were hurting her.

Tightly Eira shut her eyes, rocking back and forth, her legs tucked underneath her. She curled into a little ball, tears escaping her closed lids. She tried to push the wave of memories away from her head, but it did not work. Everything came back to her—she could feel their hands touching her, ripping at her dress, holding her down, parting her legs—

Hands rested on Eira's wrists, and Eira opened her eyes, meeting a pair of blue-green eyes that looked at her sadly.

Godric was now crouching before her, his mouth and chin covered in blood. Slowly he pulled her wrists down so that Eira was not covering her ears anymore, and then he gently pulled her close to him, his arms going around her shoulders to envelope her in a tight, protective embrace.

At first Eira fought against him, scared and confused, but Godric was stronger than her, his arms locking around her and unwilling to let her go until she gave up.

Soon enough Eira stopped fighting, letting Godric hold her, feeling surprisingly comfortable and protected in his embrace. He would not hurt her, she was now sure of that. Nothing could hurt her after what she had been through…

"What have they done to you?" Godric asked softly, placing a kiss on Eira's temple.

"I don't want to remember," whispered Eira, closing her eyes tightly, "I don't want to think about it."

"I need to know," demanded Godric gently. "Tell me so that they can pay. Tell me what they did so that they can be punished accordingly."

"You already know what happened," whispered Eira, her thoughts going back to that horrible incident—Godric had saved her. She remembered him being there. He had made the men and the wolves stop… "Why do you want to know more?"

"Just tell me, please," said Godric desperately, burying his face in the crook of Eira's neck. _Tell me that it isn't true. Tell me that they did not manage to touch you. Tell me that what I saw was a lie… _but deep down, Godric knew that his hopes were for naught.

"I don't want—"

"As your maker, I _command_ you..."

* * *

With a gasping breath, Eira opened her eyes, blinking back tears as her sights met with a destroyed ceiling. Smoke and floating pieces of debris clouded her vision, her ears ringing as the distressed voices of humans and vampires alike sounded muffled all around her. She could smell the dry, pungent smell of smoke and burning wood, the residual chemicals of a homemade explosive, and the blood… Eira could smell so much blood. Slowly she tried to sit up, only to have a gentle hand keep her lying prone, murmured words in Gaulish instructing her to keep still, that she was severely injured and that she needed to refrain from moving or else…

Eira did not understand what was happening. Her thoughts went back to the last thing she remembered, which was looking into Godric's eyes, her hand reaching out to grab his, only to be ripped apart by the sound and feel of a rough blast.

Death was lingering in the air…

"Isabel, hold her still," instructed Godric, looking at his underling with wide, unfocused eyes.

"What's going on?" asked Eira weakly, blinking owlishly.

"Nothing," said Godric stiffly, avoiding Eira's gaze as his eyes remained on her chest—or more specifically, the tall piece of splintering wood that had impaled Eira to the ground.

Following Godric's gaze, Eira's eyes significantly widened at the sight. The piece of wood was about two feet long, and thick enough to wrap a hand around it completely.

"Is that a table leg?" she asked in muted horror, then laughed bitterly, mumbling, "This is what I get for trying to kill myself, isn't it?"

"What?" asked Isabel with wide eyes; this was news to her.

Ignoring the female vampire who was crouched by her head, Eira continued with, "Karma's a bitch."

"Stop talking like that," ordered Godric, finally looking Eira in the eye. "You will be_ fine_."

_Fuck yeah I will_, thought Eira, reaching up a hand to pull the piece of wood out, only to have Isabel and Godric yell at her to keep still. Isabel quickly leaned forward, grabbing Eira's wrists and bringing them up only to have them pinned above Eira's head.

"Do not move," instructed Isabel, looking down at her Deputy, "we do not know how close that thing is to your heart."

"Half an inch," replied Eira automatically, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Let me go so I can take it out."

"One wrong move and you will be **dead**," said Godric harshly, his voice thick with emotion, making his curious little accent thicker.

"I'm already dead," muttered Eira before opening her eyes, glaring at Godric. "Call off Isabel so I can take it out."

"No, you might—"

"Godric, just let me pull it out!" exclaimed Eira, growing frantic. "I can feel my body trying to push it out, and in the process, my body is moving it closer to my heart!"

"I…" Godric was at a loss. He knew what he had to do, but he was so scared. If he pulled the piece of wood out and by chance, his hand moved an inch in the wrong direction, then Eira would cease to exist, and he could not have that.

Eira, having had enough, began to struggle against Isabel, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes tightly. With every move she made she could feel the piece of wood growing closer to her heart, nearly brushing against it. She wanted it out. Her body wanted it out. She wanted to grab it and tear it out of her chest and be done with it.

"Eira, stop it!" demanded Godric, grabbing Eira's legs and holding them down to prevent her from kicking.

"Just let me pull it out!" screeched Eira, eyes wide open, fangs dropping with a click.

"Eira, as your maker, I** command** you to _stop_!"

Eira's body went still, and not by her own accord. She could feel Godric's influence in her mind, forcing her to follow his words. There was virtually _nothing_ she could do—as his progeny, if he commanded it, Eira could not go against his word, at least not until he released her, and Eira knew that would never happen.

Eira glared at Godric, hissing at him as her body went limp.

"You promised me, after I was turned, to _never_ do that to me," growled Eira murderously. "You said you would _never_ make me do anything against my will after you demanded that I tell you everything _they_ did to me!"

"I told a lie, as it turns out," said Godric quietly, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Just get it out," said Eira curtly, turning her head to the side to avoid Godric's stare. "My body isn't healing properly because of it…"

Cautiously, Godric let go of Eira's legs, his hands going to the piece of wood protruding from her chest. Tentatively he wrapped his hands around it, eyes going wide when Eira winced. He froze for a second, blinking owlishly as he stared down at the piece of wood.

"Godric, please…" whimpered Eira.

In one swift motion, Godric's hand shot up, taking the piece of wood with him. Blood sprayed across his face.

The scream that left Eira's lips echoed eerily throughout the nest, drawing the attention of Eric, who up until now, had been unaware that his sister had been in any mortal danger.

Eira's scream was exactly what Godric had been hoping for; it meant that she was still there, and not turned into a pile of blood and guts. Setting the piece of wood down, Godric gave Isabel a nod, silently telling her that it was okay to let go of Eira.

"Godric, what happened," asked Eric as he appeared at his maker's side, looking down at the gaping hole in Eira's chest that was oozing a steady stream of blood.

Ignoring his progeny, Godric said softly, "Eira, how do you feel?"

"Like shit," his lover muttered bitterly, begrudgingly saying, "thank you."

"You are welcome," nodded Godric, reaching out with his hands to cup both of Eira's cheeks, gently forcing her to look up at him. "You had me so scared…"

"You promised me to never use your title as my maker to—"

"You left me no other choice," spoke Godric softly, leaning down to bury his nose in Eira's neck, breathing in her scent. "It could have pierced your heart… if that were to happen, it would have destroyed me."

"… Just don't do it again, please," said Eira weakly, tears slowly trickling from the corner of her eyes. "I don't like to be forced…"

Nodding in understanding, Godric leaned back, staring down at Eira's face. Now with the piece of wood gone from her chest, her body began to heal at its normal rapid pace. All the little cuts and bruises marring her skin began to knit and heal themselves back together, and all the small pieces of broken silver chain were pushed out, dropping to the ground with a muted tinkling of metal.

"Will someone tell me what the **fuck** just happened?" asked Eric impatiently.

Both Eira and Godric chuckled softly.

Helping Eira to sit up, Godric explained to his second progeny what had happened with Eira's chest, and after the hole in Eira's chest was completely healed, Eric grabbed his sister and wrapped his arms tightly around her, murmuring in her ear in old Nordic, relief flooding him. He'd almost lost her... again.

"You know, Godric," mumbled Eira humorously, resting her head against Eric's chest, "I've been waiting all night for you to notice my hair."

Isabel chuckled, shaking her head. Out of all the things that Eira could say after nearly being staked in the heart, she goes with her hair.

"I _have_ noticed your hair," said Godric, opening his arms for Eira to crawl into his embrace, "but I did not think it of import to voice my opinion. We have bigger matters at hand than just your hair—though I will say it now, it is nice. I approve. I am glad you did not cut it short."

"How romantic," droned Eric, rolling his eyes as Eira crawled onto Godric's lap, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes as Godric wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"Let's get out of here, yeah?" suggested Eira, snuggling into Godric's chest, "I am filthy—not a pleasant feeling—and I'd like to have a shower and get cleaned up."

"Has Hotel Carmilla already been alerted?" asked Godric, receiving a nod from Isabel.

"Security has been put in place," said Isabel. "They are just waiting on your final word."

Godric nodded.

"Who's dead?" asked Eira curiously.

"Stan, Paolo, Catherine, and two human companions," informed Isabel.

"Stan and Paolo?" repeated Eira without a hint of remorse. "Good riddance."

"Eir," said Godric in a reprimanding tone.

Eira shrugged indifferently. "Paolo was one of Stan's followers—he always disrespected me. Catherine on the other hand… I shall mourn her death. She was always kind to me."

Isabel and Eric both shared a look, rolling their eyes.

"C'mon, let's get the fuck out of here," said Eric. "I am so done with fucking Dallas."

"Me too," mumbled Eira.

"A change in scenery would be nice," added Godric airily as he helped Eira to stand. "I would like to see something else."

Eira and Eric shared a looked.


	23. Moving On

The next night, things had calmed down considerably. After much insistence from Eric and Godric, Eira had finally caved in and ordered an AB-negative human from Hotel Carmilla's menu. She hated to admit it, but she had missed the feel of warm blood slowly running down her throat, warming up her insides and giving her body a pleasant tingle. TruBlood gave her the nutrients to keep on existing, but it would never give her the zest for life that blood taken directly from a human host would.

After feeding, Eira had spent time in the bathtub, up to her shoulders in warm water and bubbles. Her phone was resting on the sink countertop, set to speakerphone, Romina's voice echoing across the bathroom. The bombing had become nationwide, and Romina had been close to flying out to Dallas if not for Eira reassuring her that everything was fine. Eira had also taken the chance to inform Romina of her upcoming wedding, which had Romina squealing in excitement.

Before hanging up, Romina had told her maker to expect a visit from her very soon—and that, "Nora sends her love and a big '_fuck you'_ for scaring her."

**_That_** had made Eira chuckle.

Now in the living room of her hotel room, Eira sat on the sofa before a turned on television, enjoying the fluffy feel of the bathrobe she'd found in the bathroom.

"I come baring gifts," said a voice, making Eira turn in her seat to look over the back of the sofa.

Eric had just stridden into the room, carrying two duffle bags that were filled with clothes—a request that Eira had made the previous night once arriving at the hotel, realizing that she (and Godric) had nothing to change into.

"Set them in the bedroom, please," said Eira. "Godric is in there right now taking an important phone call, so keep the noise down to a minimum."

Eric nodded, disappearing one moment, and then appearing the next, sans duffle bags.

Godric followed soon after, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, much to the amusement of both Eira and Eric.

"Those duffle bags are filled with our clothes," informed Eira lightly.

Godric quirked a questioning eyebrow, asking, "They are?"

"Yes," snickered Eira.

"Then why have you not changed?" he asked next, noting that Eira was naked underneath her bathrobe, just like him.

Eira simply shrugged, making Godric roll his eyes. He quickly turned on his heels, disappearing into the bedroom, coming out five seconds later wearing jeans and a gray shirt, sans shoes.

"What are you watching," he asked as he took a seat beside Eira, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Eira immediately snuggled into his side, lifting up her legs to rest them across his lap.

"_Say Yes to the Dress_," answered Eira with a little smile.

"Isn't that show about wedding gowns," asked Eric, coming to sit on the other side of his maker.

"You got it," smiled Eira. "It's giving me ideas. So far, I'd like to wear something that'll make me look like a princess, or maybe something with an Empire waist—and peach. Peach is a pretty color for a wedding dress—they also call it sherbet, it's kind of a pale pink—"

"You're wearing white," said Godric, matter of fact.

"I'll wear whatever I want—it's my wedding," retorted Eira, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I would like to see you in white," rephrased Godric stiffly, knowing that he was two seconds away from an argument, and an argument he did not want to have tonight.

"I'll think about it."

Smiling slightly, Godric tightened his hold on Eira, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Eric refrained from rolling his eyes. Seeing his maker so affectionate… it freaked him out.

Quietly, the trio watched the bridal show, Eric and Godric commenting occasionally on what dress they'd like on Eira. Eira just took it all in stride, keeping her mouth shut and rolling her eyes. Both men wanted to see her in something traditional, but she was leaning more towards a pale pink. If only Pam were here to back her up…

During a commercial break, Eric had decided that he'd had enough with the bridal show. Quickly snatching up the remote off the coffee table before his sister could protest, he changed the channel to the news, and was most pleasantly surprised (end sarcasm) to see the Newlins going head to head against Nan Flanagan, spokeswoman (and fellow vampire) for the _American Vampire League_ (and Chancellor for the Authority) on live television.

"You kidnapped a prominent member of our community," Nan was saying, trying to keep her composure.

"He volunteered," said Revered Steve Newlin nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulder.

"Did he?" questioned Nan, looking accusingly at the Newlins.

"He came to us—"

"Only because you had plans of kidnapping his fiancée!" snapped Nan, knowing that that would put the Newlins in a bad light, while it would gain sympathy for vampires. "You took advantage of how much he loves his bride."

Eira turned to look at Godric, quirking up an eyebrow in question.

"Was that why you were on the phone earlier?" she asked him passively.

Godric nodded. "Ms. Flanagan will be paying us a visit after she is done with the Newlin's emission—I hope you agree with letting her—and in turn everyone else—know about our engagement. I am aware that it is not an ideal way of announcing our commitment, but I had no other choice than to inform Ms. Flanagan. She needed it for her reports."

"Well, the world would have found out sooner or later", said Eira with a shrug, "I told Isabel last night before leaving the nest—and Mina knows as of a few hours ago. No doubt Nora will find out from her."

Nodding, Godric went back to watching the television.

"You use your tax-exempt religious institution as an anti-vampire terrorist enclave," Nan was saying, a glare set in her blue eyes.

"The Constitution gives us the right to defend ourselves," countered the reverend.

"You attacked _us_," said Nan accusingly, pointing a finger.

"You murdered my father!" snapped Reverend Newlin.

"That's an allegation," said Nan dismissively. "This is a fact: you stalked and terrorized an innocent vampire for weeks. You kidnapped another, and you and your church armed a suicide bomber that killed vampires _and_ humans."

Sarah Newlin was quick to speak up, much to the distaste of her husband. With her pretty pink lips set into a fake smile, she said, "We are fighting for God's green earth and daytime and Christmas and Easter eggs and all that's sacred—"

"This is bullshit—I've had enough," spat Eric, quickly shutting off the television.

"I concur," agreed Godric quietly.

Confusedly, Eira asked, "How are plastic eggs filled with sweets relevant?"

"No fuckin' clue," shrugged Eric.

"Come, Eira, let's get you dressed," said Godric, grabbing Eira's hand and rising from the sofa. "I do believe that Ms. Flanagan should be arriving within the hour. We must prepare…"

* * *

Two hours later, in one of the hotel's conference rooms, Eira was two seconds away from lunging at Nan Flanagan if she didn't shut the fuck up in the next five seconds.

"Do you have any fucking idea of the PR mess you've made?" Nan was saying, glaring at Godric. "And who fucking has to clean that shit up? Me. Not you—**me**."

As an afterthought, she added, looking at everyone gathered, "I should drain every one of you bastards."

"Stan went after the church on his own," said Eira, trying to remain calm. "None of us knew anything about it."

"Oh, really," scoffed Nan, "because everyone who met Stan in the last 300 years knew he had a kink about slaughtering humans. But you, his nest mates, his _Sheriff_," she glared at Godric, "had no clue."

"And how were we supposed to know that this time he meant it?" interjected Isabel, huffing in frustration.

"Not my problem," said Nan. Turning to Godric, she spat, "yours."

"Don't talk to him that way," snapped Eric, finally having had enough of Nan's disrespect.

"Don't talk to _me_ that way," growled Nan. Turning back to Godric, she asked, "Let's get to the point—how did they manage to abduct you?"

Repeating what he'd said over the phone, Godric said, "I offered myself in exchange for Eira."

"Why?" Nan prompted.

"Why not?" asked Godric, getting frustrated. _Stupid question_, he thought privately.

There were video cameras in the room that were supposed to record their conversation for legal purposes. Godric was honestly irritated with having to repeat everything he'd told Nan over the phone just for the camera's sake. He thought it pointless and repetitive, and repeating himself was something that Godric did not like doing. He was past the point of caring if he was being polite or not—Nan was being a bitch, and Godric would return the favor with much more grace.

Rolling her eyes, Nan said, "Well, what's this I hear about a traitor?"

"Irrelevant," said Godric, refraining from looking back at Isabel—he could not drag her into this. "Only a rumor—I'll take full responsibility."

"You bet you will," snapped Nan.

"You fucking _bitch_," snapped Eira, finally losing her cool.

Godric placed a hand on Eira's knee warningly.

Ignoring Eira, Nan said, "Listen, this is a national vampire disaster and nobody at the top has any sympathy for any of you. Sheriff, you fucked up—you're fired."

Eira's eyes widened in surprise.

"I agree," said Godric quietly. "Isabel should take over. She had no part in my disgrace."

"Godric," said Eira softly, looking at Godric in disbelief, "fight back."

"What are you saying?" asked Eric with a shocked look on his face, looking down at his maker. "She's a bureaucrat; you don't have to take shit from her."

"You wanna lose your area, Viking?" hissed Nan.

"You don't have that kind of power," snapped Eric, glaring daggers at the vampire sitting across from him.

"Hey, I'm on TV," said Nan with a careless shrug, "_try me_."

"I'm to blame," blurted out Eira, drawing all eyes on her, "I should have contained Stan the second Godric went missing."

"You fucking should have," said Nan, pointing a manicured finger at Eira, "but you didn't because you were more concerned with your fucking—"

"Enough," said Godric, a slight glare in his eyes as he looked at Nan. "I remove myself from all positions of authority."

"Works for me," said Nan with a shrug. "Now, tell me about the bombing, please—every single detail."

"A boy walked into the nest," started Godric, "at first, I thought him to be someone's human companion, but then he opened his jacket…"

Eira remained silent as Godric retold the events of the previous night, her eyes set into a permanent glare as she stared at Nan Flanagan. That vampire was a two faced bitch, and Eira hated her with a burning passion. Alas, there was nothing Eira could do but keep her mouth shut and endure being in the same presence as the female vampire, for Nan was constantly on television fighting for vampire rights, and that gave her power.

Soon, Nan waved a dismissive hand and allowed Isabel, Eric, and Eira to leave the conference room. Godric was required to stay, for he needed to sign his resignation papers.

It only took two signatures and a recorded admission for Godric to be relieved of all his duties, and soon he was out of the conference room as well.

"Nan wants to speak with you," he told Isabel, who looked nervous, but nodded her head, reentering the room.

It appeared that Area 9 would get a new Sheriff before dawn.

"C'mon, let's go to the roof," said Godric quietly, taking Eira's hand in his. "I would like a moment alone with you."

Nodding, Eira silently walked alongside her beloved, and Eric stared after them, a scowl on his face.

"Fucking Nan," he spat, glaring at the closed conference room door, before turning on his heels and returning to his hotel room. "I am **_so_** fucking done with Dallas..."

* * *

**AN:** The following chapter, chapter 24, is where our tale draws to a close...


	24. Going Home

"I've been thinking," said Godric quietly as he and Eira reached the roof.

"What about?" asked Eira, leading the way to the ledge.

"Where would you like to get married?"

A large smile appeared on Eira's lips as she hopped onto the ledge. Godric smiled back, placing his hands on her knees to part her legs so that he could stand between them.

"I haven't given the place much thought, but I want it to be outside," said Eira, wrapping her arms around Godric's neck, pulling him in close.

Godric promptly wrapped his arms around her waist.

"A garden wedding?" suggested Godric, a twinkle in his eyes, "It would be outside, with the trees, and lots of flowers."

"I like that," said Eira with a grin, leaning in to quickly peck Godric on the lips, "can we have fairy lights too?"

"Yes, we can," said Godric with a chuckle.

"Lovely," sighed Eira dreamily, but her face quickly turned serious, and she furrowed her eyebrows, suddenly deep in thought.

"What is it?" asked Godric, noticing the abrupt change in Eira.

"Speaking of _fairy_ lights," she said softly, looking Godric straight in the eyes, "Sookie Stackhouse is a fairy—well, **_part_** fairy."

Godric was surprised, but his face remained stoic. "How do you know this?" he asked calmly.

"From the moment I first smelled her, I knew that there was something off about her scent. I had a hunch, and so I asked Mina to do some research," said Eira. "I was quiet surprised when Mina told me that the Stackhouses came from a very… _magical_ background."

"Well, this is certainly interesting," said Godric thoughtfully. "It would make sense though, with her being a telepath and all. Mina once said that as a human she could hear voices in her head, did she not?"

"Yes, she did—Mina thought she was going crazy," said Eira, "it was such a relief for her once she was turned. She said that the voices in her head went away the moment she became one of us—said that I cured her. She never considered the possibility of being a telepath—and neither did I, come to think of it."

"Do you suppose that if Ms. Stackhouse was turned, she would lose the ability to read minds, but gain another power?"

"It happened with Mina, didn't it? It's possible—it would explain why Eric is all over her, too," said Eira with a sigh.

"What do you mean?"

"There was a problem in Shreveport before coming here," began Eira, "Sookie was attacked by a creature that very closely resembles the Minotaur in appearance—its claws are poisonous, though. Anyways, after Sookie was treated for her injuries, the healer that Eric brought in said that we could give Sookie vampire blood to heal quicker. Bill was about ready to bite his wrist to offer blood, but Eric… he was very insistent on Sookie drinking his blood rather than Bill's. I think he wanted to create a blood bond with her, so that he can keep track of her."

"You are probably right," agreed Godric, "knowing Eric's thirst for power, I would not be surprised if he did such a thing—actually, I believe he did manage to trick the human into drinking his blood."

"Really?"

Godric nodded. "It was at the nest, after the bombing—I was more concerned with your condition to pay any attention to anything going on around me, but I did manage to hear the end of an argument between Eric, Ms. Stackhouse, and Mr. Compton. It appears that Eric lied about being injured, saying that there was silver imbedded in his skin from the bomb, and that it needed to be sucked out—a very good lie, I'll admit."

Eira chuckled, giving Godric a knowing look as she said, "Well, he learned from the best, did he not?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about," said Godric innocently, but a smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips. "Come, the sun is only moments away from rising, we should get inside."

Nodding, Eira allowed Godric to lead her towards the set of stairs that would lead into the building, but before they reached them, she stopped walking, making Godric stop as well, looking back at her with a questioning look in his eyes.

"I will only say this once," said Eira very seriously. "If you decide to offer yourself to another anti-vampire group, you better pray that they get the job done, because if they don't, I will kill you _myself_."

Godric, surprisingly, chuckled, nodding his head. Reaching out for Eira, he enveloped her in a hug, pressing her body against his.

It felt good to be back, to be wrapped around Eira, to feel so wonderful even though so many things had gone wrong. A single smile from Eira could make even the darkest of days look bright for Godric. It made him think of that saying that the humans used—_Home is where the heart is_, however, for his own purposes, Godric replaced "home" with Eira, because that was where his heart was.

* * *

**THE END  
**_For now..._


	25. Sequel: Moonstone

The sequel for this story has been posted under the name: **Moonstone**.

Enjoy!

:)


End file.
